Here Be Sexist Vampires

Chapter Eleven

(Sam)

The second that the queasy feeling in my stomach, courtesy of teleporting, eased and we arrived at Jared’s apartment I ripped my arms from his grasp. He was already laughing, rather pleased with himself. I wasn’t sure what I felt most strongly: annoyed at him for thinking he had the right to interfere with my plans, or flattered that he was so affected by the idea of me having plans with someone else. It was always nice to have a little power over someone who tended to consider themselves to be all big and bad.

“Next time you feel like winding up some bloke I’m about to go out with, you might want to warn me in advance.”

“I wound him up?” He snorted. “I wasn’t the one who turned up at someone else’s apartment threatening them to stay away from you.”

I gaped. “He did that?”

“Must be love in its purest form.”

I went to slap his arm but in a blurred motion he was out of my sight. That’s when I took notice of the apartment. It was like double the size of mine. And incredible. The colour scheme was a perfect mixture of warm gold, cream and ivory. Dark oak flooring seemed to be a feature throughout. His living area was bigger than my bedroom and en-suite bathroom combined. He had one of those leather corner sofas that seated like eight people and were so bulky that when you sat on it your feet just about touched the floor. The rectangular coffee table had pillar-like legs and matched the oak flooring so perfectly that I wondered if the table was made out of the same wood as the flooring. Typical of blokes, his platinum T.V. was unnecessarily wide. And wow he had a fish-tank somehow built into the wall. Posh bugger.

Past the living room was a large space with a conference table in the centre, and following on from that was the kitchen. Even from here, the beginning of the living area, I could tell that the large square kitchen was extremely modern; rich woods, chrome appliances, and marble counters.

I suddenly became conscious that Jared was stood at the outer edge of the kitchen staring at me as he tackled an NST. He raised an eyebrow. “Like it?”

Oh so this was usually all it took to have women on their backs with their legs spread. I casually shrugged one shoulder. “It’s alright.”

He laughed. The gruff sound of it was alluring. God, he was alluring. Even more so when he wore those black Armani jeans and that very complimentary white Armani t-shirt, the best feature of course being that knee-length leather jacket. I was starting to suspect that he hadn’t removed it because he knew how much I liked it on him.

Raising both brows now, he used his thumb to gesture behind them. “The bedroom’s that way, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

I gestured to behind me. “And the front door’s that way, and unless you want me to walk right on out of it you can behave yourself.”

He smiled. “I’ll try to behave.”

“On a more serious note, doesn’t it get weird having all this space to yourself?”

The humour in his eyes dimmed a little for a split second. Then he shot me a roguish smile. “I need all the space for my big swollen ego.”

“I never thought of that.”

He nodded toward the kitchen. “Want anything? I take it you haven’t eaten.” His mouth twitched. Clearly he was delighted about the situation he had created.

“Got any alcohol flavoured NSTs?”

“I might have Budweiser flavoured ones.”

“They’ll do.”

“You like Budweiser?”

I gave him an impatient look. “Let me guess, you find that so surprising because I’m a girl and we girls generally drink spirits and cocktails.”

He held his hands up in an apologetic gesture. “I’ll take my sexist ass to the refrigerator and bring you back some Bud flavoured NSTs.”

“Yeah, you do that.”

He laughed again and nodded toward the conference table before then disappearing into the kitchen. On the surface of the long, glass table was a thick file. So he was telling the truth about there being information for me to look at, he wasn’t just trying to get me away from Max. A small part of me was stupidly disappointed that he hadn’t simply acted on a need to end my night with Max.

Placing my small white handbag on the table, I called out, “What is this gathering anyway? And who’s Connelly?”

Jared swiftly appeared beside me with a handful of NSTs that he plonked on the table, making them noisily clink against the glass surface. “Connelly is a High Master vampire. He’s about three centuries old and he’s got a rod stuck up his ass, but he’s devoted to Antonio.”

“So then why invite you to the gathering and not Antonio?”

“Antonio never leaves The Hollow. Ever. By going to the gathering, I’m kind of his representative.”

“And this gathering is an annual thing?” I took the opened NST he was offering and took a swig. Not bad.

“Yep.”

“For what?”

“It’s the anniversary of the day that Connelly became a vampire. He has this huge party every year, but really it’s just an excuse for everyone to get together and get smashed. But, the reason people go is because Connelly’s very select about who he invites. He never exceeds a certain number either. So to get invited is thought of as an honour; a statement that you’re considered important in the vampire world.”

“So basically it’s an opportunity for all of you ‘select’ people to get together and shine your swollen egos.”

He jiggled his head. “More or less. Unless a vampire is a master vampire, they don’t get invited. The only ones who aren’t masters are the High Masters.” He patted the file. “Antonio wants you to have an idea of who they are before you go. We know that Bennington will be invited, and Antonio’s concerned that if Bennington attends he will use the opportunity to approach the other High Masters with his plans to attack The Hollow. It’s doubtful that he’ll just come straight out with it, but he might hint at it to test the water. So Antonio wants us both to be on the alert.”

I cast him a suspicious look. “I could have just gone through this at dusk before we left.”

He smiled. “So you could’ve.”

So he was eager to get me away from Max. Hmm. And now he was doing his glaring thing again, taking in my white satin strapless dress and my white stilettos. Slowly his eyes skated over every inch of my body, boring into me to the point that his glare was almost a caress. I could literally feel his need for me and had to repress a shudder. Twisting his lips and raising a brow suggestively, he met my gaze.

I warned him with my eyes before I spoke. “Oi, you can stop that right now.”

“What?”

“You know bloody well what, so don’t muck about.”

“I like looking at you.” He shrugged, all innocence.

“Well I don’t like you looking at me.”

He edged a little closer. “You wanted me last night.”

“And you said no.”

“It wasn’t a rejection, I told you why.” His hungry gaze travelled over me again. “I won’t say no now.” He ran the rim of his bottle down the length of my bare arm. I held back a quiver. “Sam.”

“No.”

“No? Why?” He was amused.

My God he had to know that even if I was up for shagging someone who suffered from Obsessive Consort Disorder – which I definitely wasn’t, honest – I would never have given in to him so easy anyway after the way he had snubbed my offer last night. Feminine pride was a big thing. “A girl can change her mind.”

“Then change it back again.” He edged closer again but still didn’t touch me. Thank God. It was hard enough just having him that close and feeling his breath at my ear.

“Can we go through this file please?” I said impatiently.

He looked about to object but then his grin became crooked and he narrowed his eyes. “If that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do.”

I picked up the file and sat on one of the leather-cushioned table chairs. At the forefront of the contents was an A4 photograph of a middle-aged bloke – although he could be centuries old in vampire years – with quite a friendly face. His shoulder-length sleek hair was almost white and his deep-set amber eyes were framed by sparse black lashes. He had a child-like button nose which was probably the main factor in giving him such a friendly appearance.

“That’s Connelly. Rupert Connelly,” added Jared as he sat on the chair next to mine. “He’s the High Master of the entire Caribbean and other places like Hawaii and Brazil. He’s a Keja. He’s about two centuries old. Worships Antonio. Any time he’s ever visited The Hollow he’s stuck to Antonio like a fly to shit.”

“Is he as friendly as he looks?”

“I’ve honestly never met anyone so giddy. Very sociable. Giggles a lot. One thing I know for certain is that he’d never betray Antonio. If an attack does happen, he’ll align himself with Antonio and do everything he can to help protect The Hollow.”

“Will his gift do much good in an attack?”

“That depends how involved he is during the defence. He has infrared vision, so if he was leading his own legion as opposed to having someone else do it then he’d be able to point them in the right direction of where the invaders are.”

I took a moment to memorise Connelly’s face before then moving on. The bloke on the next photograph didn’t look much older in human years than me, but his almond blue eyes held a twinkle of wisdom so I guessed he’d been around for a while. His facial structure was sculpture-worthy and made all the more appealing by the hood of sandy tight curls that hung down to his cheekbones. Very broad shoulders, I noticed.

“That’s Carlos – he doesn’t use a surname. A Pagori. High Master of quite a few places like Spain, the Canary Islands, Morocco, Portugal...He doesn’t reside anywhere in particular, he likes to travel. Sociable enough but only interested in serving his own interests.”

“So if he deduces that Bennington’s plan of attacking The Hollow has a high chance of succeeding, he could easily align himself with Bennington.”

“Oh yeah.”

“His gift?”

“He’s Psychometric. By touching something he can give details about its past, present, future – that kind of thing.”

“Just objects, or people too?”

“Not sure, actually.” He snickered at the next photograph as I moved on from Carlos. “Rowan Murdock,” he drawled. “Not the nicest of vampires.”

Rowan looked as though he had been Turned when he was in his late forties. He had long, dark incredibly straight hair and the largest eyes, largely glinting amber. Clearly a Keja vampire. With his chunky lips pursed and one dark eyebrow arched he gave off an arrogant vibe. “He looks stuck up.”

Jared giggled. “He mainly lives in Italy, but he’s High Master over Greece, all the Greek islands, Turkey, Algeria, Egypt and more. He’s got an extensive bloodline.”

“So he’s quite the biter.”

“You could say that. He always takes his life-partner with him to the gatherings. Marcia I think her name is. She’s very...prim and proper.”

“A snob,” I offered.

“But she won’t be snobbish to you because she’ll think you’re my consort and she’s never snobbish toward the consorts which I think is weird.”

“She obviously just doesn’t feel threatened by the consorts.”

“You mean the way Joy feels threatened by you?” His smile was cute, inviting and playful. His eyes raked over me again.

I gave him a pointed look. “Oi, we’re talking about these High Master vampires, nothing else.”

“I know,” he said innocently like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

I tapped the photograph. “So what’s this Rowan like with regards to Antonio? A fan or...?”

“He’s not exactly chummy with him but I can’t see him ever betraying Antonio. He thinks that highly of himself, he’d never associate or align himself with any vampires who were challenging Antonio. That kind of thing is beneath him. His gift is pretty cool. He can mimic any non-living substance just by touching it.”

Although I could feel Jared’s eyes on me I forced my concentration onto the photograph, memorising the face, before flipping to the following one. The first thing I noticed about this bloke was his nose; long, wide and turned up. His cropped hair was a reddish gold and his tiny beard was a few shades darker than his hair. There was a large ring of red around his grey eyes, meaning not only was he a Pagori but he was angry, hungry or horny when this photograph was taken.

“Curran. Don’t know his first name.” Jared paused to open another NST. “He kind of keeps himself to himself at any gatherings, but he’s alright once you get him talking. He’s not High Master over many places. Mostly just Canada and Alaska.”

“That could go in our favour. He’ll figure that after the battle there’ll be enough casualties to mean that some countries are without a High Master. If he wants more territory he might join Antonio.”

Jared nodded. “Very likely. But I’d say that the other side will try to coax him to betray Antonio because his gift is pretty impressive. Duplication.”

“So...He can create duplicates of himself or others and scatter them around to join the battle to replace any casualties.”

Jared nodded again. “I can’t see him betraying Antonio though. I’m not saying he’d definitely join the battle, he might want to sit it out completely.”

I knew the bloke on the next photograph. I recognised his chubby face, the thin coal-black moustache, the smarmy expression, and it was impossible to forget the way he combed his dark hair to the side of his head, covering his bald patch (not so well).

“Bennington,” I said.

“That’s right. You’ve met him, right?” I nodded. “Creepy guy. He might want to have a catch up if he sees you.”

“Or try to employ me.”

“He tried to take you off Victor?”

“Yeah, a few times. Out of the two of them, Victor was the lesser evil.”

Jared tilted his head, conceding that. “He’s High Master over Greenland and Iceland as well as Britain. Out of all the High Masters, he’s had the most challenges to his role.”

“I’m not surprised, he makes enemies pretty easy. Bennington’s gift wouldn’t exactly help him in a battle. He can sense people’s gifts, but he has to be extremely up close to do it.”

“I hope he gets up close to me. Decapitating him would be the highlight of my year.”

“Be careful, I might beat you to it.”

“Bennington’s mine,” he insisted with a smile.

I gave him a ‘whatever’ shrug and then slung the photograph to examine the next. Whoa, they were the bushiest eyebrows I’d ever seen – they joined in the middle, making the bloke look like he had a caterpillar hanging above his round dark eyes. His coppery hair was quite tousled, sticking out here and there and tickling his long ears.

“That’s Winston Jones, but he changes his name near enough every time the wind changes course. He’s High Master over Australia, New Zealand, and Indonesia and all the little surrounding islands. Older than Antonio by a couple of decades. He’s known mostly for having the largest harem.”

“Go on, how many consorts?”

“Over eighty.”

I grimaced. “That’s bad, worse than man-boobs.”

Jared laughed. “Don’t talk about tits. I’m having a hard time ignoring yours.”

“That’s because you’re perverted.”

“No, it’s because I want you, and you’re making it really hard to resist you when you come here dressed like that.”

“Er, excuse me, I did not turn up here like this for your benefit. I was at a restaurant, and you snatched me from it, remember. Now let’s get back to this file. So, what’s this bloke’s gift?”

“Nothing uncommon. Winston can levitate, but he can levitate quite high.”

“What side do you think he’ll align himself with?”

“It’s hard to say. Winston’s weird like that. One minute he’s laughing and joking with you but then the slightest thing changes his mood.”

“Typical Pagori,” I muttered.

Jared frowned at the jibe but then his smile quickly returned. “Winston’s quite impulsive. I think his decision will just depend on how he’s feeling at the exact moment that he realises he has to choose a side or back out.”

The next photograph was of a Keja vampire of Japanese origin. He was neither smiling nor frowning; his expression and posture was very relaxed and reserved, and I imagined him to be a very cool, collected person. In this respect, he made me think of Antonio.

“He calls himself Bran,” said Jared. “He’s a Keja. He’s always been a close friend of Antonio’s, they have the same Sire. There’s no doubt where his allegiance will lie.”

“Good.”

“He’s High Master over Japan, China, and Africa among other places. Quiet and respectful. He makes me think of a librarian. Doesn’t like Connelly much, I think that’s because Connelly talks so much.”

“And what’s in his bag of tricks?”

“He’s an Ecological Empath; he has a psychic sensitivity to his surrounding environment.” His bad-boy smile was suddenly back. “Want to have a rummage in my bag of tricks? You never know what might pop up.”

“Jared,” I growled in warning, but it didn’t have much humph behind it seen as I was giggling at the same time.

Wearing a crooked, sexy grin, he said, “Joke.” But his tone and the intensity of his gaze completely contradicted that. I swallowed. The horniness continues...

The next vampire looked a lot like Butch with his neat hairdo and the devilish tint to his eyes. Unlike Butch he seemed to like facial piercings; his nose, eyebrows, lips and ears all either had hoops or studs decorating them. His smile revealed a couple of gold teeth. He didn’t photograph very well. I have to say, though I’m not very photogenic myself. In human years, he was probably the oldest of all the High Masters.

“Ricardo Maxwell.”

“You don’t like him,” I detected.

Jared shrugged. “He thinks he’s a hard-case but really it’s all a big act. I can’t stand people like that. He’s High Master over the US and Mexico. He’ll, without a doubt, support Antonio. He likes to think of himself as good friends with Antonio, he’s a real bad kiss-ass.”

“As long as he fights with Antonio I don’t care if he goes as far as to lodge himself permanently up Antonio’s arse. Gift?”

“Shape-shifting. And it’s not restricted; he can shift into whatever living thing he touches.”

“Maybe Ricardo isn’t so bad after all.”

“I’m sorry to destroy your fantasy but you’re not his type. He’s a fan of plump, curvy females with big butts. You’ll see what I mean when you get a glimpse of his consort.”

“So, basically, his taste is the opposite of yours.” Before he could make an impish comment I quickly asked, “So at some point you’ll speak to every vampire in this file.”

He nodded. “That’s right. They’ll come over, ask how Antonio’s doing and to pass on their regards, that kind of thing. It’s just exchanging pleasantries to show respect for Antonio.”

“Right.”

On the last photograph a very grim looking vampire was staring back at me. He made me think of an army sergeant or something. His face and neck were covered in scars and tattoos and had a beard of stubble, giving him quite a rugged appearance. He didn’t look in the least bit welcoming.

“Kaiser Something-Or-Other. I can’t pronounce his surname. He’s German and a Pagori. High Master over Germany, Russia, Sweden, Finland and other places round those parts. I’m 100% confident that he’ll be the first to offer to join Antonio. He might be miserable and mind-numbingly boring but he’s loyal to Antonio. He’s visited The Hollow a few times.”

“His gift?”

“He can petrify any plant, animal or even human – totally turning them to stone.”

“Well he’s just gone up in my estimations.”

“He’ll probably be very pleased with you. Likes the slender but shapely type. Not approving of Joy.”

I couldn’t help smiling at that. “Well that’s because a lot of blokes like to be able to hold what they can see.”

His expression became all bad-boyish and spoke of utter mischief. “I’d certainly like to hold what I can see right now.” He brushed my hair over my shoulder and leant over to my ear. “Sam,” he breathed. “You know you want this.”

I rose and took a step to the side so that I was standing in front of the neighbouring seat, taunting him more than anything else. He left his chair and advanced toward me, perching one butt cheek on the table.

Grinning, he held up his index finger. “Now that is something you can’t do tomorrow night. You’ll be posing as my consort; no one will believe that if you’re shifting away from me. Speaking of, you know consort decorum, right?”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. “I was Victor’s for three years, what do you think?”

“I know, but that was when you were travelling in lower class circles. This gathering will be full of the big boys, there’s a certain standard they expect. Number one: you cannot leave my side without asking permission. Where I go, you follow. Number two: you don’t speak to anyone unless they speak to you first. They’ll speak about you to me, that’s different. Unless they address you, you keep zipped. Number three: you don’t argue with anything at all that I say. I know that goes against your very nature, but you have to be a good girl.”

I groaned. “All that is going to kill me.”

“I should warn you and your feisty little self now that you should expect them to speak about you. You’re a Sventé vampire. Me bringing a Sventé as my consort is like the president taking his servant to a royal gathering.”

“Oh really? Well I think you’ll be very surprised by their response.”

“In what way?”

“Just because Kejas and Pagoris rarely associate with Sventés because of their prejudiced view that we’re apparently more human than vampire, don’t expect them to frown upon my presence. They’ll be just as curious as you are about being having me bite them.”

He gave me a doubtful look.

“Trust me. At least one will ask if you like to have exclusive rights to my saliva because they’ll want a sample, you’ll see.”

His gaze was hot again, and the heat was contagious. My self-consciousness under his glare had long ago subsided as my desire grew. Those sensual lips and those masterful hands brought plenty of memories – really good ones – to the forefront of my mind. This was not good while he was so close.

“Can I claim those rights now?” He leant toward me. I took a step backwards but he took my wrist and tugged me lightly to him. Not up close to him. He was just stopping me from getting away.

I swallowed. “No, and you won’t be claiming them tomorrow night either. You’re going to promise me now that you won’t try to take advantage of the situation that I have to do what you say.”

His smile widened. “Don’t worry, I won’t. Know why? For the same reason that I’m not running my hands all over you right now. I’m not interested in doing anything to you that you don’t first say you want me to do. When we have sex – and we will, Sam – it won’t be because I seduced you, it’ll be because you’ve finally admitted that you want it. That’s why I didn’t want us to do anything last night. It wasn’t really me you wanted, and you’d have just said afterwards that you weren’t thinking straight at the time because of what had happened outside the bar.”

I didn’t argue. I would’ve done that. The truth was that last night I did want comfort. He gave it to me by holding me, but I’d wanted more. I’d wanted to know just how good he could make me feel. Once my head was clear I probably would have browbeat myself for shagging a bloke who collected women like they were coupons.

He slowly brought his face to mine but didn’t kiss me. The red rings of his irises were glowing. “Why do you fight it so hard, Sam?” His voice was no more than a throaty whisper.

“You know why,” I whispered.

“I’ll get rid of them. All of them. Just say the word and they’re gone. You’re all I want.”

Taken aback, I studied his face searching for some indication that he was either joking or lying. But there was no deception or humour there, and I could sense nothing but honesty coming from him. “You’ll get rid of your consorts? Just like that?” There was pure disbelief dripping from the words.

“Like I said, you’re all I want.” His voice was still deep and throaty, indicating a barely controlled hunger. “Not as a consort. You’re worth more than that. I’ll grant you it’s greedy of me to have three, but just because I like to enjoy the advantages of being Heir doesn’t mean I see women as objects or that I’m anything like your Sire was. If getting rid of them proves that to you then that’s what I’ll do.”

I went to say something but the intensity of his gaze as he ran his knuckles down the column of my throat brought me up short. His gaze dropped to my lips which were dry and I was restraining from licking them in case he mistook that as a signal for him to kiss me.

“I’ll get rid of them,” he repeated.

“Oh, really?”

“You don’t believe me.”

“Of course not.”

He smiled, brushing his nose against mine. “Why?”

“What was it you said to me when we had that fight? That I should get on with my celibate lifestyle and you’d get on with shagging your consorts?”

“I haven’t slept with any one of them since before our fight. Doesn’t seem any point when it’s you I’m thinking about.”

“While you’re on a roll with lies would you care to tell me anymore?”

His gaze seized mine. Softly, he insisted, “I’m not lying.”

I snorted. “You can’t expect me to believe that. Joy comes to the office all the time talking about plans for you and her involving whipped cream and handcuffs and all that crap.”

His smile grew. “I knew you were listening.”

I smiled back in spite of myself.

“Her version of seduction techniques. All were unsuccessful.”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry but there’s just no way I can believe that you haven’t touched them for weeks because of me. And I definitely can’t believe that you’d ditch them for a shag, no matter how much you say you want me.”

“Oh I don’t want a ‘shag’.” With his nose he skimmed the line of my jaw, making me shudder. “Once won’t be enough. I want to do it over, and over, and over, and over again. And I intend to do a lot more to you than just that.”

Great – now I had a series of images circulating round my head that were dazing my brain with lust. “I heard you don’t shag the same woman twice unless it’s a consort.”

“I don’t.”

“Yet you’re saying ‘over and over again’...?”

He softly ran the tip of his finger along my bottom lip which I very nearly flicked it with my tongue. “It’s...different...with you,” he finally said.

Close to overwhelmed by his closeness and teasing touches I swallowed so hard that I was surprised that I found my voice. “Different how?”

He seemed to be searching for words; confusion was splattered across his face. Eventually he shrugged one shoulder slightly. “It just is. I don’t just want you, I need you. Crave you so bad that no one else even appeals to me.”

The hint of desperation in his voice sent a shiver through my body. I might have thought these words were just designed to eat at my defences if I hadn’t seen the truth in his eyes. But even as he stood here admitting – something that I could see wasn’t easy for him to do – that he craved me so badly, he was sure to keep his touches light, simple, non-invasive. He had to see the effect he was having on me, had to be able to sense my arousal, and yet he wasn’t leaping on that. He really wasn’t going to until I gave in to him, I realised with a shock. Until he heard the words come from my mouth, he wouldn’t act on what he wanted – craved – no matter how bad it was for him. How could I have ever thought that there was any similarity whatsoever between him and Victor? They were nothing alike. That old bastard had took what he wanted when he wanted, disregarding anyone else. Yeah Jared was arrogant and slutty, but taking advantage of his position of Heir and accepting the offers of the women around him wasn’t a crime and didn’t make him anything like my Sire at all. But then I’d known that all along really, hadn’t I? It was like Jared had said; it had just been so long since my body had responded to a bloke without being manipulated that I hadn’t known how to deal with it. So what had I done? Slammed up a shield and ran from it.

“You know how it’ll feel, Sam.”

I did know. I knew how his hands would feel on my skin. I knew how wildly he would kiss me. I knew how tight he would hold me. There would be that explosion of heat coursing through me, like fire. And if just having him kiss me and touch me would make me feel that, what would the rest be like? My clit was throbbing just thinking about it. Oh God I really needed to step away from him. Right. Now.

Did my body move? No.

“I’ll get rid of them, Sam. I told you I will, I meant it. All you have to do is admit that you want me.” He brought his lips to mine and spoke against them, “Just admit it. Tell me you want me and I’ll get rid of them.”

Suddenly every single fibre of my being was sizzling with alertness and desire and anticipation. Yeah, he was a sod and, yeah, he was sexist and, yeah, he’d rejected me last night and, yeah, there were probably more reasons than that why I shouldn’t want him. But at this point I’d had enough of fighting myself on this, enough of running away. All I wanted now was to feel that fire again. To have his hands on me again. To have him finish what he started weeks ago. My body was supportive of that idea. My body also sensed the but...Yes, there was a but. I just found it way too hard to believe that he would get ditch his consorts just to shag me no matter how many times he was hoping to do it or how much he wanted me.

“Just tell me you want me, and I’ll get rid of them,” he repeated.

Cloaking my hypersensitivity to him, I smoothed out the collar of his jacket and spoke against his lips, “Get rid of them, and then I’ll tell you I want you.” He didn’t tug me back to him this time when I stepped away. His smile hadn’t fallen but frustration – sexual frustration, mostly – filled his expression. And his pants.

There was also respect in his gaze; a gaze that was exploring my body again. Exploring it so closely that I was tingling all over. I wondered if I’d made him even worse by holding back. He seemed to appreciate a challenge more than most. “Alright,” said Jared, smiling. No one should have a smile that sexy. “You don’t think I will, do you?”

“Nope.”

He came toward me. “I can promise you that when I come for you tomorrow night to leave for Connelly’s gathering I’ll be consort-free...and ready to make you scream as soon as we get back from there.”

“Oh is that right?” I giggled.

He nodded and then seized my eyes with a gaze so heated that it scorched my entire body. “And I can’t wait to hear that husky voice you’ve got calling out my name.”

“Sorry, I don’t call out anyone’s name. It’s nothing personal.”

His smile was now almost stretched from ear to ear. “You will for me. You will for me.”

(Jared)

In the interest of not having the people in the neighbouring apartments gossiping – Sam liked her private business very private, she said – I teleported her to her apartment so she didn’t have to leave through the door. I was so close to just snagging a kiss before I left but I held everything I was feeling in reserve. I meant what I’d said just as seriously as I’d said it: I wanted her to admit that she wanted me before I touched her. Twice we’d kissed before and twice she had backed away full of excuses. This time there would be none, and no one would be backing away. I’d make sure of it.

And I’d make sure she called my name.

Before any of that was going to be possible, there was something I had to do first.

It was Daniela who answered the door when I went to the apartment. As usual, the inside was a mess: open tubs of nail varnish on the table, clothes hanging over the sofa, shoes here there and everywhere, empty NST bottles on almost every surface. All three of them were, in a word, slobs. They were so bad that the maid had gone on strike.

“Jared, hi,” said Daniela, reaching out to me with those weirdly long acrylic nails. “I’ve missed you.”

I avoided her touch and advanced further into the apartment. Joy and Tammy appeared from the kitchen within seconds, both glowing and ready to start their usual seduction techniques. I held up my hand as a signal to them to stop in their tracks. All three girls were now looking at me with confusion and wariness flashing across their face, glancing briefly at each other. No matter how I phrased what I was about to say, their reactions would be the same. As such, I didn’t see the point in creeping around the issue. “I’m relieving each of you of your consort position.”

There was a brief moment of silence. Shock echoed within it.

“You don’t want us anymore?” asked Daniela after a minute or so.

“What did we do?” Tammy was doing her hands on hips thing.

I glanced at the three of them as I explained, “My decision is not something that any of you should take personally, I -”

“You’re replacing us,” said Joy sharply. She had the look of someone who was considering how to do the perfect murder.

Tammy gasped and then shot Joy a scowl. “If he is, we all know who’s to blame.”

“Yeah,” spat Daniela, glowering at Joy. “It’s your fault for being so heavy on him all the time, following him around.”

Joy’s hands balled into fists. “I wasn’t being ‘heavy all the time’” – oh she was – “it’s not my fault if I’m the favourite and he likes having me around.”

None of this was unexpected. We’d been through something similar before when I almost added another consort. All of them suddenly became insecure and repeatedly asked what they had done wrong, if I was punishing them. Daniela became whiny. Tammy became full of questions. Joy became snappy and couldn’t let the issue go. Then they all turned on each other. With that in mind, I knew that this could go on all night long. Time to cut it short and rip the Band-Aid right off.

Before I could speak, Joy turned back to me and spoke, “Who’re you replacing us with?”

“I don’t need to explain myself to any of you. My decision has been made, that is all you need to know. You have a week to find alternative accommodation.”

Ignoring their noises of protest, I proceeded to leave the apartment. I might have let them keep it if it weren’t for the fact that it would look to others, more importantly to Sam, that I was still using them as consorts. I’d originally thought that since I’d had consorts so long it would be weird to suddenly have none. But it wasn’t.

As I reached the door, there was a tug on the back of my shirt. I pivoted sharply, ready to reprimand the tugger. I hadn’t expected to see the vision that was then in front of me.

Sam.

My initial reaction was to hitch in a breath and insert warmth into my expression. But then reality quickly kicked in. I sighed, irritated. “Joy, what’re you doing?”

“This is what you want, isn’t it,” she said bitterly.

“Joy, that’s -”

“I can give you that. You don’t need to make her your consort, you don’t need to do all this, I can give you that.”

“You have a week to get out,” I repeated.

Before I could open the door she threw herself in front of me, still physically a perfect imitation of Sam, leaning back against the door. Her hands grabbed my t-shirt. “Jared, listen to me. I can give you what you want. If this is what you want to see, who you want to see, then this is what I’ll do. And I’ll be better than she is. You’ll be able to see her in front of you like this but you won’t have to deal with all the shit she pulls. I won’t insist on being you’re only consort. I won’t talk down to you. I won’t disrespect you. I won’t fight you.”

I sighed. “I know. That’s why you’ll never be her.”

“So, what, you’re saying it’s not enough because you care about her?”

For a second my mind went blank, but then I deduced that of course I didn’t. I couldn’t. The only people I cared about were Evan and Antonio. I didn’t do feelings when it came to women. I’d already been over all this once in my head before; just because I wanted her as much as I did, it didn’t mean anything. It was just lust on a very grand scale. A very, very grand scale. That was all it could be.

I removed Joy’s hands from my shirt. “Have a bit of pride.” And then I left.