One Night Stand
He sat on a stool in the little singles’ bar, and watched the customers come and go through a red haze. He glanced at the mineral water in his glass and gave it a little swirl, hoping no one noticed that he wasn’t drinking. It was getting harder to see and even harder to concentrate on the task at hand. He watched closely. The right one would come along sooner or later … he could feel it in his blood. Maybe he was a fool to wait but he always felt better about it if she came to him willingly. Then he saw her.
She was petite, well-shaped, and attractive. Dressed in a very short and tight, red leather skirt, lacy red camisole, and a long white sweater, she was very sexy and feminine. The high heels of her black shoes made her appear taller than she actually was, but that meant nothing to him. She looked around the place, saw him at the bar, and swayed towards him.
‘Club soda, please,’ she told the bartender as she sat on the stool next to his.
He smiled at her. ‘Chilly night out there, don’t you think?’
‘It’s downright cold, if you ask me,’ she replied, and shivered slightly as she turned to look at him. He was easily over six feet, broad-shouldered and muscular. He was almost too beautiful to be a man, was her first thought, but the fit of his trousers, and the open admiration in his eyes, led her to believe he was all male. ‘At least it’s warmer in here,’ she added.
‘Yes, it is,’ he agreed. ‘Do you come here often?’
She nodded. ‘Where else can one meet single men in this city? I’m tired of married men hitting on me.’
‘How do you know the men in here are single?’
She smiled, transforming her face into a thing of real beauty. ‘I guess I don’t, not realy, but there’s a better than average chance of finding a single guy in here.’
‘Very philosophical,’ he commented, holding out his hand to her. ‘Gregory Hunter.’
‘Louise Manning.’ She put her small hand in his briefly and his long fingers curled around it warmly. He watched her eyes as she noticed the abundance of hair that protruded where his jacket sleeve ended at the wrist. Even the back of his hand was covered. He sensed the little shiver of sheer excitement that spread through her.
‘I haven’t seen you in here before,’ she said, withdrawing her hand from his. ‘Are you new in town?’
‘You could say that. Like you, I thought this might be a good place to meet some people.’
‘You mean girls.’
He laughed. ‘You’re very direct, Miss Manning. Yes, I do mean girls.’ He flinched as his stomach muscles tightened painfully. A warning signal. He couldn’t ignore them much longer.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked, pulling down her eyebrows as she looked at him.
‘Just a touch of indigestion,’ he assured her. ‘Would you be willing to sit and talk to a stranger?’
‘Sure, why not?’ She preceded him to a booth in a dimly-lit corner of the club, long blond hair swinging gently around her slim shoulders. ‘So what are you doing in town?’ she asked as they sat down. ‘Have you transferred here or are you looking for work?’
‘Actually, I’m just passing through.’ He gazed deeply into her blue eyes. ‘Tell me about yourself.’ He exercised just enough control to make her agreeable but not too eager – not yet! And she told him everything, including her affair with a married man. That, he concluded, explained her earlier comment about being hit on.
As she finished talking, he looked at the wristwatch he had ‘borrowed’ from another customer earlier in the night. One more hour to midnight. Time was running out. He must act quickly or he would be in danger of losing this opportunity.
‘Am I keeping you from something?’ she asked. ‘Do you have some place to go?’
‘No. I was just wondering if you might be willing to take this some place a little more private,’ he suggested softly. ‘I think we could both use a little company tonight.’
She frowned. ‘You’re not married, are you? You don’t have a wife in another town somewhere?’
He shook his head. ‘No ties of any kind,’ he said solemnly.
‘Okay then. Where do you want to go?’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘A motel, perhaps? A good one, that is,' he added quickly.
‘I hate motels,’ she said, wrinkling her nose. ‘They’re so cold and impersonal. We could go to my place if you like.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ he agreed. This was all coming together nicely, much easier than he had anticipated. Probably because he had waited for the right one, the one who stirred his blood.
When they arrived at her apartment, he waited just until they were inside the closed door. Then he turned, took her in his arms, and kissed her passionately. She was warm and soft and he hoped this time he would be successful.
‘Hey!’ she protested gently, when he released her lips. ‘Take it easy. Not too fast.’
‘Sorry. I thought we wanted the same thing. I thought that’s why we came here. Was I wrong?’ He really didn’t want to use force and hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
‘No, you’re not wrong, but I’m not into one-night stands as a rule, especially with strange men whom I’ve just met.’
His lips curved slightly. She had no idea how strange he really was. ‘Do you want me to leave?’ he asked, though he had no intention of doing so. It was too late to find another now.
‘Oh no!’ she replied quickly. ‘I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of tramp, picking up strange men all the time.’
‘Point taken.’ He looked down into her blue eyes. ‘So what’s the next move, then? Where do we go from here?’ His voice was seductively low as his gaze held hers, silently willing her mind to follow his lead.
‘The bedroom,’ she whispered. ‘I want you, Gregory Hunter.’
‘Are you sure? He unzipped the leather jacket, letting it fall seemingly unnoticed to the floor.
She nodded and led the way to a room that was decorated in varying shades of purple, with touches of spring green and white. A little too garish for his taste, he thought, but he wouldn’t be here long. Soon he would be back in his own world, a world that had been forced upon him long ago. He drew her towards him slowly and began to undress her. Her skin was soft and silky, like all female humans, and enticing to him in his present state. Finally he lifted her easily in her arms, carried her over to the bed, and laid her on top of the covers.
Her fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt, and he let her slip it off his shoulders, watching her reaction.
‘Wow! You’re hairy,’ she said with a small laugh. ‘You must be a throwback to the cavemen or something.’
‘A family trait. Does it bother you?’ It made no difference to him. She would never guess the reason for the hair that covered every inch of his skin except for his face, the palms of his hands, and the soles of his feet.
‘Not at all.’ She twined her fingertips in the short, wiry curls, her nails reaching through to the sensitive flesh beneath. ‘I like it,’ she added. ‘It’s different. Makes you look like a werewolf. I actually think it’s kind of sexy.’
He laughed shortly. If she only knew the truth. He laid his mouth over hers, then let his hands roam freely, thankful that he had not forgotten the human techniques. He didn’t get much practice in human mating methods. He knew it wasn’t necessary to do it this way, but it had become a game for him, to seduce rather than force. He sensed there was a lot of passion beneath the surface in this one, just waiting to be released. She twisted and shifted on the bed, trying to bring him closer to her but he held her off. The time had to be exactly right and she had to be completely under his control, even though she didn’t know it.
She caressed his hair-covered upper body, not knowing that it meant nothing to him. It was simply necessary, an opportunity that he was given for one precious night out of each year.
He stood and looked down at her, lying there on the bed, her pale skin contrasting sharply with the deep purple of the fake fur blanket. She was easy to look at and had been just as easy to arouse. But now the romancing must come to an end. It was time to get serious.
‘Are you willing to give me everything I want?’ His voice was low, sensual and seductive. He knew the answer for he was in total control, but it was part of the game he liked to play.
‘Oh yes,’ she breathed softly, reaching up her arms to him. She looked up into his dark eyes. Her face was flushed and she was breathing heavily.
A half smile curved the corners of his full lips as he towered above her, a magnificent creature with long black hair and burning eyes. This was what he had so skillfully prepared her for with his hands and with his mind. She welcomed him eagerly as he joined her on the bed. His hands framed her head and his mouth silenced her with a kiss as he took her roughly.
She cried out as he sank long sharp teeth into the soft creamy flesh of her neck. Her excitement had been so intense that her heart now pumped blood from the wounds he made in great forceful spurts. She moaned softly as he drank greedily. Her wounds would heal quickly because of a substance in his saliva and he drew his rough tongue across the wounds in a final, gentle caress. She had, after all, been worth the wait. He rested briefly before removing himself from her warm body.
With smooth, graceful movements, he rose and left the room without a backward glance. She had served her first purpose. Now he would have to wait to find out if Louise Manning would produce the required offspring. For only then would he be free from this terrible curse, and restored to his normal, undead state.
As he walked outside, he wondered how many more times he would have to perform this ritual before he was successful. He had lost count of the times he had already tried and failed, but he was well aware that vampires were seldom fertile. His hatred for the one responsible for the curse he was under grew stronger with each failure, as did his desire for revenge.
He looked up at the moon and howled as the painful transformation from man back to beast began again. And again, as he loped away into the night, he hoped this would be the last time.
© 1990, F. Herridge
Vampire's Crypt 2, Summer 1990
© Fayz World & Sugarwolf Designs