Interview with a vampire
I’ve returned to the night club known as Night Moves because you know I’d do anything for my readers, right? And it has nothing to do with that hot hunk of demon named Asmodeus.
No, not a damn thing.
Yeah, right, and anyone who believes that goes onto my list of those I wish to sell waterfront property to.
At any rate, I’ve returned, having received a communication from aforementioned Asmodeus that I have another interview set up. This one is with Chaus, who is a vampire. Oh my, how my heart does flutter at the idea. I am a huge fan of vampires, and the thought of being up close and personal with one… well, it’s got my blood flowing, that’s for sure.
Night Moves looks pretty much as I remember it. Asmodeus told me to go to the same table on the second floor, and I do. There I find a rather amazing sight. Sitting before me is a gorgeous guy with shoulder length red hair (if you know me and you’ve seen Dracula, you know why that affects me!). He’s flanked on either side by a pretty boy. The boys are as alike as two peas in a pod, although one has dimples and the other has that much vaunted and much loved butt chin.
Doesn’t take a psychic to figure out which is the vampire. He waves me into a chair and I sit quickly, before I get a chance to melt. But just to be sure, I have to ask.
“You are Chaus, yes?” I hope so, because you sure are purty…
“Indeed I am, Ms. Hayes. Welcome, and please, have a seat. May I say how honored I was when the Prince of Lust informed me of this interview? Would you like something to drink before we start?”
I slide into the chair opposite the three hotties, so mesmerized that I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, without thinking. “Can I have a buttery nipple, please?”
Can my face grow any hotter? Although blessed be that I didn’t vocalize my next thought, which was sex on the beach.
“I will assume that is a drink, and not a fetish.” I snap my fingers and one of my pets… my lovely mate Jordan… leans closer to me.
“Bring the lady her drink, sweetie.” I watch as he hurries off, a slight limp in his gait from the spanking he received earlier. I’d warmed his ass up before bending him over and fucking him. His screams of pleasure still ring in my ears. It’s always a fight to get Jordan to lose his valued control. “So, what is it you want to ask me, Ms. Hayes?”
I may be a writer, but journalism is not my natural milieu, it’s something I do for my blog, so perhaps I’m not the best at formulating questions. But I try. So here goes nothing and sorry if I say what comes to mind.
“You are one gorgeous… you know…” At least I didn’t say it aloud, right? “Who are your friends?” I suspect I know, but I’d like to hear it from him. He has a lovely voice, by the way. I try not to imagine if the drapes match the carpet, although I suspect I’ll never find out from eyewitness testimony.
I grin at the look in her eyes. “Thank you. And the two standing by me are not friends. Not at all. They, my lovely Ms. Hayes, are my mates… and my pets. Mine to have and do with as I wish… for eternity. Ah, and here is Jordan with your drink. I hope you enjoy it. Now, if you wish to ask Jordan or Allen questions, they have my permission to speak.”
I take the drink from the young man and quickly sip, before I say something really stupid. Like, do you swing both ways? The idea that these two sexy guys are both his… did he say mates... blows my everloving mind.
“So, Jordan and Allen…” I address them both, at least until I figure out who’s who. “I presume you’re brothers.” No duh, right? “Tell me a little about yourselves, if you would.” I look between them, hoping whoever chooses to speak first will identify himself. It would help.
“I’m Jordan, the oldest. I was the COO of several world famous high-end department stores our father owned. We, ah, used to hang out at lot here.”
“And I’m Allen. I was the CFO. We both had business degrees from Harvard. And what my brother is trying to say is that we hunted men to fuck when we came here. We, ah, don’t do that anymore.”
“Oh now, pets. Why not tell the lady how you destroyed so many lives in your business? How you both used the men you took home as nothing more than asses to fuck. How delightfully amoral you both were? And how the two of you had intended to use me in the same way.” I grin, showing my fangs and allowing my eyes to lighten to that eerie pale blue. If Ms. Hayes is frightened, then that’s her problem. But somehow I don’t think she will be… after all, she interviewed the Prince of Lust.
“We have a thing for redheads,” Allen whispered, his eyes glued to Chaus. “Well, we did. Now we have a thing for our master. We had marked Chaus as the one we intended to take home that night and fuck.”
“It didn’t quite work out that way,” Jordan said. “We had no idea what we were messing with until it was too late. He… took Allen’s mind over and made me obey him or else he threatened to kill Allen. That night ended in a totally different way than we imagined.”
“Indeed it did,” I said. “I had been searching for a very long time for one that was as evil as I am. I was delighted to find two that met my requirements. And I took them. Now, they obey me. And I can be a very harsh task master.”
I refrain from remarking that I’m a redhead. I suspect that would make no difference for obvious reasons. Besides, it’s the vamp that attracts me, the other two are just… boys. I try not to think too hard about what he looks like naked. His eyes… so sexy. Damn.
“Sounds fascinating,” I murmur, my eyes fixed on Chaus. “Tell me, um, do you have any… unusual ways of… drawing blood?” I keep telling myself that I’m asking for my readers, not my own titillation.
“Oh, I have plenty of places to bite on the body. But my favorite is…” I laugh outright at Jordan’s blush. I know he’s remembering where I threatened to bite him that first time. I didn’t; instead I bit down on the inside of his thigh, into the femoral artery, while Allen fed too. Only later did I actually bite him on his most sensitive bits. Oh my, how he howled with pleasure. “Ye Gods, Ms. Hayes, you certainly bring back lovely memories. Might I perhaps suggest reading the book, if you want to know more? I also believe Church said she’s working on the last one in the series.”
“Yes, she told me the same thing.” Has my voice taken on a bit of a dreamy cast? I clear my throat hastily.
“Yes, yes, I will, I promise.” I’d ask him for a later rendezvous, but why tempt rejection? Besides, I think I’ve just been dismissed, albeit politely.
Almost as if I was compelled—what a silly idea, right?—I rise from my seat and he rises with me, and I feel his lips on the back of my hand… oh my
Suddenly I’m back in my office. How did that happen? Doesn’t matter. What a charming man… I drift away on daydreams and sigh.
Tag: Jordan and Allen are out for fun, but they're playing a dangerous game with an ancient predator...
Blurb: Pounding music and writhing bodies fill the dance floor at Night Moves. Brothers Jordan and Allen share everything, and are part of a very small, very elite group of friends. What do they have in common? More money, power, and connections than most people can even fathom. These young men consider themselves above the law. Spoilt, powerful, and totally amoral, they use men without a thought for the consequences of their actions. Tonight the brothers have their sights set on a sexy redhead -- they're determined to have him in their bed!
Chaus is an ancient vampire as cold as his deadly kiss. Driven by a taste for kink, he's searched for centuries to find someone as debauched and sinful as he is, only to be continuously disappointed by humans and nonhumans alike. One desire drives him: a pet to call his mate that he can torture and pleasure with his lethal desires. His hunt has brought him to Night Moves, and he's on the prowl.
Jordan and Allen are out for fun, and they place a bet on a deadly game. But they're playing with a predator -- and a dark, hidden secret that the brothers possess will be the catalyst that brings Fate down on them. The Bad Boys Club has once again picked the wrong target to play with.
Jordan sat at the conference table, dispassionately watching a certain Mr. Havers fall apart. He, Allen, and their father had just finished taking over a very small family-owned chain of boutiques they’d been watching for a while now. The owner hadn’t wanted to sell -- the business had been in his family for several generations. It hadn’t mattered in the end. Jordan and Allen wanted the chain, so they used their wealth and power to take it. He and Allen planned to run it themselves, and run it the way they wanted. Which hadn’t gone over well with the previous owner. The brothers needed a hobby to occupy their time, and this was it. Neither man cared that there were people’s livelihoods tied to that business.
“You’re going to what? But you don’t understand,” Mr. Havers nearly yelled, drawing Allen’s attention from a stack of papers that sat before him. “These people have families to support. If you fire them, in this economy, it’s unlikely they’ll find jobs anytime soon. Please, they’re good, hardworking, and loyal workers. The best you could ask for.”
Allen looked to Jordan and rolled his eyes. “Not our problem.”
“We don’t want them. They’re loyal to you, not us.” Jordan sipped his coffee, completely unconcerned that over five hundred people would be out of a job in two weeks. “We’re restructuring from the ground up. End of story. Out with the old and in with the new, if you will.”
Mr. Havers pounded his fist on the table. “These are people with bills to pay, children to take care of, college fees to deal with, mortgages… please don’t do this. It’s bad enough you forced me to sell, but don’t punish them. Most of my workers are close to the core group of our customers.”
Allen hooted. “After we’re done, we’ll be targeting a better class of customers. That’s another reason your employees aren’t needed.”
Mr. Havers gaped at the insult.
Jordan stood. “It’s a done deal, Mr. Havers. You no longer have a say, and frankly, I couldn’t care less what happens to your employees. Or, for that matter, you. We made you a damn good offer for your chain in the beginning. It’s not my fault you didn’t take it, and you ended up with less and your people lost their jobs. With their skill sets, maybe they can flip hamburgers at some fast-food place. They’ll find something, I’m sure. Regardless, as Allen said, it’s not our problem. It’s nothing personal, just business. You understand, surely? And this meeting is now over.”
Allen gathered all the papers together and looked at his watch. “We’ve spent enough time on this. Good day, Mr. Havers.”
Mr. Havers rose so swiftly that his chair flew back, hitting the wall. “You bastards. You don’t give a shit about anyone but your own kind. It’s the average working man that keeps this country --”
“Oh Lord, here we go singing the praises of the working man.” Allen sneered as he stood up. “I’m calling Security.”
“Good idea,” Jordan said. “We have somewhere else we need to be.”
Mr. Havers picked up his coffee and threw the lukewarm beverage at Jordan. He stormed to the door, yanking it open so hard it left a dent in the wall. “Don’t bother, I’m leaving. You both are nothing more than animals. If there’s any justice in this world, you’ll meet someone who will ruin the both of you the way you’ve ruined so many others.” The door slammed shut behind him.
“Yeah, right.” Allen looked at Jordan. “He got you good, didn’t he?”
“He’s nobody, less important than the dirt under my feet.” Jordan shrugged, annoyed. He used a napkin to blot his shirt. “Damn shirt probably costs more than everything he wore to this meeting.”
“I’d have to say he especially didn’t like you.”
“Now the feeling is mutual.” Jordan rolled his eyes as he tossed the napkin. “Like we care what happens to those employees. Come on, let’s get out of here. I’m going to have to change before we party.”
* * *
Jordan leaned on the railing, looking down at the wiggling mass below him. Lights flashed and music thumped as bodies writhed on the dance floor of Night Moves, a trendy upscale bar. The floor was crowded. It was Friday night, after all, and time to celebrate. “Do you see him, Allen?”
“No, I lost… wait. There he is. Yeah, I got him now. Damn, can we pick ‘em or what? Fuck, Jordan, I can’t wait to see him on his knees with my cock buried in his ass while he sucks you.”
Jordan scanned the crowd down on the dance floor until he found their prey. There he was. Poor Allen. He might want the guy, but he was just going to have to wait. Jordan planned on having that redhead’s ass first. He was, after all, the older brother.
Jordan’s smile faded. He’d hoped this one would be different. Over the last several months the hunt he and Allen had taken part in had become… boring.
He was bored. God, how ludicrous was that? He got all the ass he wanted, and still he was bored.
Maybe he was getting jaded, but the thrill was fading. The guys he and Allen picked up were all the same. They fell into their beds with hardly a whimper, got fucked, then went home. He wanted… Jordan exhaled silently. He didn’t know what he wanted. But he damn sure knew this lifestyle was getting old. It would be… nice… if he could find someone who fit his needs; someone who could stand on his own as easily as he did, but would give up control when he demanded. That was his idea of the perfect ideal man… right?
“So?” Allen nudged him, interrupting his thoughts.
The roving lights of the club wandered over their choice, his red hair shining for just that moment, and Jordan’s cock hardened. Both he and his brother had a thing for redheads. A smirk tilted his lips as he watched their prey’s body grind on the dance floor. He sincerely hoped their guy had freckles. He loved tracing those sexy little brown dots with his tongue while their chosen piece of ass cried out in pleasure.
Their friends, Hugh and Kain, didn’t get their fascination with gingers. They didn’t understand how well that pale skin showed marks… like those from his hand slapping down on an upturned ass.
“So… what?” Jordan so enjoyed winding his brother up.
He rested his elbows on the railing. For VIP’s, the club had a decadent, kinky side. The second level was members only, and membership was awarded on the basis of money, power, and prestige. The second level was where other jaded predators like he and his friends roamed. The bottom level -- the dance floor -- was where the fresh meat was displayed. After all, every predator needed prey.
“Don’t start that shit with me, Jordan. I’m not in the mood for games tonight,” Allen hissed. “We’ve scored once today, and I’m ready to celebrate.”
“Really? But isn’t that what this is? A game?”
M.A. Church lives in the southern United States and spent many years in the elementary education sector. She is married to her high school sweetheart and they have two children. Her hobbies are gardening, walking, attending flea markets, watching professional football, racing, and spending time with her family on the lake.
But her most beloved hobby is reading. From an early age, she can remember hunting for books at the library. Later nonhuman and science fiction genres captured her attention and drew her into the worlds the authors had created. But always at the back of her mind was the thought that one day, when the kids were older and she had more time, she would write a book.
By sheer chance she stumbled across a gay male romance story on the web and was hooked. A new world opened up and she fell in love. Thus the journey started. When not writing or researching, she enjoys reading the latest erotic and mainstream romance novels.
Facebook: M.A. Church http://www.facebook.com/pages/MA-Chur...
Thanks to M.A. Church, and to Chaus, for making this possible!
Until next time, take care!