Page 2 of Pucking Vamps
Who are they? Where are they? If it was their intention to intrigue me, they have succeeded.
Buzzing, I lean on the banister and scan through the people again, desperate to find the one who’s making me feel so pleasantly on edge. I’m like a mouse in an open field, waiting for the eagle to swoop in and snatch me so they can eat me for dinner.
I don’t even know how I noticed the presence. It just… popped out of nowhere, catching me off-guard in the best way possible. I inhale sharply, my entire body vibrating. Me out of the hundreds of people in this crowded club. The realization is too much as it floods me again, too intoxicating.
I need this. To feel special tonight after my shitty day where my skills as a forward were questioned. Hockey is pretty much my everything. I’m good at it and I want to make it full-time. I want to play for one of the big teams, build a name for myself and get rich. I want to prove to myself and everyone else that even though I come from nothing, I am worth more than my depressing bank balance.
Suddenly, the presence disappears. I feel robbed and I can’t even explain why. My eyes dart left and right, desperately trying to find whom it belonged to. I need to know and the urge is hard to push down. My attention narrows down to the crowd near the bar as I squeeze the banister, but when I can’t identify anyone of interest, I close my eyes. I try hard to find the presence again, but it’s simply not there, and in its place is a barrenness that irritates my already frustrated mind.
My prize was just snatched from right under my nose.
Or you just imagined it all, Hayden. You do have the tendency to do that when you’re tired, underslept and annoyed.
I scoff, rolling my eyes at myself. I don’t need this crap right now. I need to—
“Good evening.”
I jump, then freeze, digging my fingers into the metal railing as the low, sultry tenor reverberates through my entire body and brings back that presence in full force. I feel each of the two words with the skin along the back of my neck, the sound gaining the ability to touch me. He’s here. The predator is making his move. And I didn’t even sense him.
Heart galloping, I whip my head around and plaster my back against the banister. A man in a suit and a black long coat is standing behind me, watching me with a satisfied gleam in his dark eyes. He’s holding a cane with metal decorations along its handle.
“Apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you, but rather, to offer to buy you a drink.” His voice is like silk, smooth and pleasant against every inch of my skin. It throws my senses into disarray, each one scrambling to experience it. “Though…” He steps in, his nostrils flaring as he inhales slowly and deeply. “Your reaction is quite delectable.”
He looks to be in his thirties. He’s taller than me. Slightly narrower in the shoulders, but still big enough to give me pause. He has slicked-back black hair that shimmers with blue undertones and hangs just under his ears. I can’t see the color of his eyes, but I can feel their potency as they roam and evaluate me. Prickles crawl just under my skin, spreading heat and anticipation through the rest of me. I busy myself sizing him up, needing something to do so I won’t lose my mind from how much more intense his presence is up close.
He’s not from around here, I can tell. It’s not just his evidently luxurious suit with its golden accents or the air of mysterious elegance that seems to surround him. He has a face like that of a Roman sculpture, his high cheekbones and the straight but prominent bridge of his nose making him look regal. He’s pale like he’s not seen much sun, which is impossible here in Tampa. He also has a slight accent… European, maybe? Not British or French or Russian, I can tell those apart. It’s more from somewhere central, I think, but regardless of the exact location, it suits him.
“You were watching me, weren’t you?” I blurt out, raising one eyebrow at him in challenge as I try to reel in my hammering heart. A stranger chatting me up has never affected me this way before. Then again, I’m usually the one flirting and charming them, not the other way around. It’s kind of nice being on the receiving end for once.
He shifts the cane from one hand to the other as a small smile lifts his full lips. They are a richer color than his ghostly complexion, a deep pink or maybe even a red, giving him more of that ethereal allure I’ve only ever seen in fantasy movies.
“I would say the better question here is not whether I observed you or not, but what you intend to do about that. Don’t you agree?”
I bite on my bottom lip, loving the way his eyes immediately focus on my mouth. I don’t know where he came from, I don’t know who he is, and I don’t care. He is not my usual type, but he’s looking for fun, like me, and seems to be exactly what I need right now. I’ve no idea how I can tell, but I just can, and judging by his subtle smirk, he can, too.
I push off the railing, planting myself right in front of him. We are mere inches away, though I have to tilt my head slightly back so I can meet his eyes.
Brushing my knuckles along the curve of his arm, I shoot him a flirty smile. “I can think of a thing or two. My place or yours?”
Perhaps it’s reckless to go off with a stranger, but I have a good feeling about him. Besides, sex in club restrooms is not my favorite.
He steps to the side, gesturing with his cane hand toward the exit as he places his other one at the low of my back. “Your pick.”
I shiver in delight at the touch. “Yours then. And you better get me that drink you mentioned.”
I somehow hear his chuckle over the music, the amused sound unleashing sparks down my spine. Whoever this stranger is, I’m glad I ran into him, because if the sex is anything like the way he has me so pleasantly buzzing just from a brief conversation, I’m in for a treat.
Chapter 2
Hayden
Club Guy is on me the moment we get out of his car. He lives in one of those fancy mansions in Tampa’s wealthiest neighborhood, because of course he does, but that’s not exactly important right now with how desperate he seems to get me out of my clothes.
I groan as he pins me against the wall right next to his front door and shoves one hand down my pants. His slim, long fingers wrap around my erection, their coolness ripping yet another gasp from me.
“Oh, fuck. Yes.” I arch into his touch as he squeezes, the need for more mounting within me.
He’s aggressive in a way that gets my heart beating even faster. His kisses burn against the skin of my neck, leaving it tingling. It’s like he’s even more desperate for this than I am, like he will die if we don’t get to fuck tonight. I wonder how shitty of a day he must have had, and consider asking him about it too, but then decide none of this matters right now as he starts roughly pumping my cock.