I wait in the alley way. I don't exactly feel comfortable standing here in the poorly-lit brick wall lined path, but for some reason, you didn't approach me while I was sat in the bar. I could feel your eyes on me, practically undressing me, one piece of clothing at a time and it was delicious.
I've felt you watching me for weeks now, and quite frankly, it's no longer enough. I'm fed-up of the mystery and silence; I can feel that you want me and to be honest, I want you too. I think it could be deeper than lust, but it's hard to know when our interactions so far have been limited to you staring and me gaining the odd furtive glance. Tall, handsome, piercing blue eyes, always dressed in black with that long leather duster, black boots and a tight fitting black t-shirt that clings to your muscular, toned chest. I'm not quite sure what you might have underneath those black jeans, but I'm pretty confident that I won't be disappointed.
I'm playing silly, reckless games this Halloween evening, because I've run out of any other ideas. I've made myself look as innocent and as vulnerable as possible. I mean, there are still silver stakes stuck down the side of my brown ankle boots, and there's still a protective talisman around my pale throat, but the flower-y, knee length summer dress, the white lingerie underneath, the tight little pale pink cardigan and the light, pale make-up on my face all suggests a sweet, girl next door, brunette college student, rather than bad-ass vampire slayer.
Yes, I know you're a vampire, but I know you're different. I might have been brought up to believe that the only good vampire is a dead one, but I don't happen to subscribe to that any more. Weirdly enough, vampires are a lot like people -- there are good ones as well as bad, and currently, there's nothing that makes me think I need to kill you. Other than the frustration of your avoidance.
"Must you really be so foolish, Eva?" you ask, stepping out of the dense shadows that you wear like a cloak around you when I dare to look in your direction.
"Apparently," I reply, keeping the smile on my face small, although I am quite sure you can see the one in my eyes shining far more brightly. "You're here, aren't you?"
"Yes, because I know you'll merely do something more stupid if I don't at least talk to you."
"Given you know this, why not just have a drink with me in the bar?"
You sigh, running a large, short-nailed hand over your head. "I had hoped you'd be sensible."
"I don't want to be sensible," I say, take a step closer to you, my brown eyes staring into yours. "I want to be loved and desired and wanted."
"There are plenty of men that want you," Eric says with a small growl in his voice that I hope is jealousy.
"Perhaps, but I definitely don't want them."
"What do you want?"
"I thought that was obvious," I say, putting my hand against your chest. "I want you."
"You don't know me."
"I want to."
"I'm dangerous."
"So am I."
Your eyes look me up and down. "Perhaps."
"I'm not afraid of you," I say, stepping closer still, my body almost pressed up against yours.
"I wish you were."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to hurt you."
"It's not really up to you. I'm the one in control of my feelings. Besides, don't you think saying no, when I can tell you want me too, doesn't hurt us both?" I ask, letting my body press into yours, feeling your cock stir against me. I stand on tip toes and my tongue almost brushes against your ear as I whisper "Eric."
You put your hands on my upper arms, holding them tightly as you stare into my eyes, and I can't tell if you want to kiss me or kill me for the way I'm acting right now. And to be honest, I don't care which it is, because if you don't kiss me soon, I might as well be dead. Everything about my body is begging you to kiss me, and I feel almost desperate with desire and tortured by the thought that maybe you don't realise.
One hand tightens on my arm, but the other moves towards my face, gently moving my hair. Your fingers brush my face lightly as you do this, before stroking my cheek more deliberately. Then, you take my chin in your hands and gently tilt my head back so that there is nowhere for my gaze to go but back to yours, and you rub your thumb against my lips, making them part ever so slightly. My breath hitches and my eyes close as your lips finally take what mine have been so desperate to give.
It feels as though time is standing still, as my senses are filled with you, although there's nothing to directly hear from you -- only the effect you have on my racing heartbeat. I can smell the masculine predatory musk and faint scent of soap on your skin; can feel the soft cotton of your shirt and the taut muscles underneath, as well as the cool touch of your hands upon my warm, bare skin; can taste you on my lips and in my mouth as our tongues dance against one another; and even with my eyes closed, I can see your intense, brilliant blue eyes staring into my soul.
I wrap my arms around your neck, and kiss back passionately, making your tongue chase mine, letting my teeth pull at your bottom lip when you force us to break apart.
"Was that really..."
You kill my words with another kiss, and suddenly, we're unstoppable. You let me pull the coat off you and the t-shirt up over your head, and the tightly chiselled chest I've been dreaming of is now cool and hard beneath my warm, lightly exploring fingers.
Your hands grab mine, entwining our fingers as you push me up against the wall, your hot, wanting mouth smothering me, your intense stare seemingly casting a spell of lust and surrender over my suddenly aching body. A delicious shiver runs through me and my breath quickens at the mere thought of what you might do to me as your hard, strong body presses up against me, crushing my breasts upon your chiselled chest. And with a third kiss, reason abandons me and I know that I am yours; that all of my body's wants and desires are yours to do with as you choose.