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Authors: Sarah Daltry

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BOOK: Bitter Fruits
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His lips bear down on mine and his tongue spreads my lips, teasing my bottom lip ever so slightly. I take out my fangs, although he does not do the same. Clutching at his back and running my hands down into the edge of his pants, I feel the soft flesh below the fabric. I realize there is nothing between his pants and the fullness of him; the arrogance and sexiness of such a decision is thrilling. Alec lets out a low growl as his lips move to my neck. His tongue circles along my collarbone and he bites me lightly as he makes his way upward. My neck is slightly raw from the tease of his fangs. They are
pretty damn realistic.

“Mmmm,” I moan and his hand slips under my dress. His hand caresses my thigh and I move to push myself closer to him, hoping to feel his fingers brush me where I am now dripping
wet. I need him, all of him, right here on the ground next to the church.

“Nora, you are beautiful,” he whispers. No one has ever called me beautiful before and the agony in the way he says it is even sexier. He makes it sound like looking at me is painful, yet it is the most tantalizing agony possible. I understand, because when I turn to meet his eyes, sharp heat sears through me. His eyes do to me what I want his hands and his body to do; I melt beneath him as his lips come back down. Something between us explodes in the kiss and he gasps, pulling away.

“I want you,” he says. “I want all of you.”

“So take me,” I tell him.

“I can’t. You are too good, too beautiful, too pure. I cannot-” His voice catches in his throat and his hand moves out of my dress. His face is torn between desire and fear; I don’t know which emotion to address, but I am not ready for the night to be over yet.

“What? Why?”

“Oh, Nora, you deserve more than a fuck in the dirt. You deserve someone to love you. If only-”

It is romantic, but I really wouldn’t mind the fuck in the dirt. My body is on fire and wants to be close to his and I don’t care if he promises nothing past tonight.

“Take me,” I whisper. “I will be yours here and later if you want, but take me now, I beg of you.”

There is a weighty pause; his eyes are luminous and his hands reach out for me, but he stops short of touching. Instead, he rises and brushes himself off. I look up and see that his body is fighting his retreat, but he overpowers his lust. He reaches down, helping me to my feet. “It’s too dangerous. This step - well, you did not ask for all that comes with it. I don’t have the right to demand forever from you. This is too much of a commitment when we just met.”

Great
, I think.
He’s a religious freak.
I don’t care about his policy on premarital sex or whatever the issue is, but the wine is wearing off and now I’m just frustrated. The reality of the night breaks any lingering hope when a girl runs from the party screaming.

“He is a monster,” she cries. Blood spills down her neck and onto her light pink dress. She barely gets beyond the steps before collapsing face first into the dirt. A crowd forms at the entrance of the church and I see Scarlet, wrapped in the embrace of a masked man I don’t recognize. I turn around to ask Alec what’s happening, but he is gone. The only evidence he
existed at all is my cloak in the dirt and the stinging bite on my neck.

The girl’s name is Chloe; I think she’s a freshman. Her friends rush to her aid, carrying her from the party while she continues to scream about monsters. I don’t know if she’s okay, or why she was bleeding, or if anyone else knows. No one seems to worry, besides her few friends, though, and everyone moves back inside. The party continues but the evening
has been tarnished for me. I find Scarlet standing against the wall by the door, holding the mysterious man’s hand. Torn between my own selfish questions and those about Chloe, I say nothing as I approach. I want to ask about Alec, to find out what she knows of him, but it seems wrong. Scarlet is relieved to see me, although she doesn’t seem as scared as I feel.

“Nora,” she says as she hugs me. “I’m so glad you are okay. Did you see what happened?”

“What was that? Why was she bleeding?”

“Some people take role playing a little too seriously. No one saw the guy but he bit her. Can you believe that?”

I should be worried about Chloe; I should want to check on her, but there are crazy people everywhere. My mind instead goes back to Alec. I look for him, but he’s not here anymore. I don’t know how he managed to disappear as fast as he did. I didn’t get his number or anything. How am I supposed to see him again? I feel like a terrible person for not focusing on Chloe, but my nerves are aching from the incompleteness of our moment. I yearn again for his touch and it shames me. My body is so desperate and another girl could be hurt. This is not like me, but I can’t deny that a part of me likes it, the recklessness of it all. Still, I breathe deep and try to come back to the present. Priorities.

“She’ll be fine, once the evening and the eventual humiliation wear off,” the man in the mask says. I recognize the voice
although I don’t know from where. It’s familiar, but the night has drawn a line between my real life and this world. Trying to piece the two together is impossible.

“Oh, Nora, this is Henry,” Scarlet says. His mask covers most of his features, but something about his posture is familiar as well. I know I must know who he is. I assume he is probably in one of my classes, because I can’t escape the impression that I see him every day.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, not trying to place him right now. There are too many other things on my mind.

He removes his mask. “We already know each other.” I see his crinkled eyes first; I know
where I’ve seen that amused yet wary look. It is only halfway through the semester but I have gotten to know him well. Henry is not Henry, but Dr. Kenyon, my mythology professor. My favorite professor - the one I go to with all of my college girl problems.
Academic
problems, which makes this about as awkward as it can get.

“Um.”
There is not much else I can say. Scarlet’s been known to do things that others would consider odd or even dangerous, but a professor? That’s daring even for her.

“Strange circumstances to discover similar peccadilloes, no?”

“How do you know each other?” Scarlet asks, running her hand along his chest in a way that tells me that, tonight, I may be sleeping in the lounge again. The haziness and the wonder of the night disappear for good; we’re back to the problems of my typical life. And now those problems include my roommate trying to sleep with my professor.

“Mythology,” I say.

“That’s cool. Nora loves that class. She’s always going on about her professor. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she had a thing for him,” Scarlet says.

Admittedly, Dr. Kenyon is still young for a professor - and
way too sexy to be so wrong for us. I can’t really blame her, especially since she didn’t know that he taught here. I mean, if I met him in similar circumstances... However, I most certainly
don’t
have a thing for him and now, I am grateful for my mask which covers most of the blush that is burning my face.

“Oh, does she?” He asks.

“She does not,” I reply. “Oh, she really, really does not.”

“C’mon, Nora.
You’re always like, Dr. Kendall-”

“Kenyon,” I say - at the same time as Dr. Kenyon.


Kenyon
. Dr. Kenyon is so smart; Dr. Kenyon said this super funny thing in class. Dr. Kenyon-”

“First of all, I don’t talk like that. Secondly, I absolutely do not have a crush on my professor.
My professor that you happen to be draping yourself over right this very moment.”

Scarlet looks at me and I shrug. She pouts, her hand not moving from his chest. “Will I be in trouble for this?”

“I’m not
your
teacher,” he argues. And with that, my mythology professor and my roommate begin their relationship. I keep my mouth shut, because he has his own apartment and doesn’t want to be seen in the dorm. This is the first time I have been able to sleep in my own bed after Scarlet scores one of her conquests. It’s a good thing, too, because I am restless tonight. I can’t stop thinking about the evening and my intermittent dreams are of a handsome stranger with emerald eyes. I really wish we’d at least had that one moment in the dirt.

 

 

 

 

2.

 

It
’s a few days later when I walk out of a study session in the library, at nearly midnight because I truly do not understand statistics, that I hear the voice again. Alec is sitting on the wall bordering the library entrance. I recognize him immediately, but without his mask, I’m disappointed to see that he is even more attractive. I don’t like being drawn to beautiful men who appear and disappear with no effort; relationships with this sort of guy tend to end badly.

“No ball gown?”
His voice is light, joking, but I look down at my ragged jeans and sweatshirt and realize I am out of my league. He isn’t dressed the same, either, but his dark pants and light blue shirt look like they were purchased at one of those stores where clothes don’t have price tags and you get a personal assistant for your shopping. The sort of stores I have never, and likely will never, shop in; I don’t even know people who do.

“No wolf mask,” I tease back, hoping the attempt
at humor covers my doubt. Dressed in a gown, surrounded by candles and incense, I could keep up; here on campus, in clothes I basically planned to wear to bed, Alec intimidates me. It isn’t only his physical beauty; something about him seems to reach me through the autumn night and make me burn for a world I didn’t even know I was missing. The way he looks at me makes me feel like all of the words from all of the stories I’ve ever read have come to life and become flesh. Perfect, sexy, and untouchable flesh.

“Your hood was black, but I am no less a predator,” he says, warning and sorrow mixed in his tone. “The mask just advised you what you were getting.”

“What am I getting? Because you certainly disappeared fast enough.”

“It was best not to be privy to the cries of monster,” he says, reminding me of Chloe. She’s fine now phy
sically although she seems lost. Her roommates said that she has taken to sleeping all day and then walking the campus alone at night. We are in a reasonably safe area, but the behavior is still weird. Everyone thinks she might be a little insane. I think she is just sad; she has been quoting Lucy from
Dracula
, which spells pathetic to me. She took the party too seriously, but being this close to Alec again, I can see how that could happen to a girl. Reality twists into something new when he smiles.

“Do you know something about her?”

Alec hops down from the wall and approaches. My body reacts to him again and I try to turn it off. I can’t feel this, not when I don’t even know what his intentions are with me. He made me feel beautiful for one night, but it was one night and bad things happen when a girl assumes one night is the same as a lifetime.

“Walk with me,” he says and I let him lead me up to the crest of a hill. The moon is full and Alec lies back on the grass, gesturing for me to lie down beside him. It is chilly; the autumn air is growing closer to winter every day, but there is enough warmth between the two of us to keep me from complaining.

“Do you trust me Nora?” Alec asks.

“I barely know you.”

“Do you want to know me? Because I want to know you. Every inch of you.”

He moves even closer and the same electricity is there between us, linking me to him while my mind tries to reason with my body. His lips brush mine and, with that, my body is his; still, he does not do more than kiss me lightly. Comfort and frustration mingle in the touch of his lips. Knowing nothing about Alec doesn’t matter;
there is nothing I can do now that I have met him. He feels like a memory that I had long forgotten.

“Yes, I do. Trust you and want to know you,” I tell him, pulling him down on top of me and letting his hands begin their exploration. He slips my sweatshirt over my head and kisses along my breasts, my entire body needing more of him but afraid to beg. His lips caress my collarbone and neck; I feel the same sharp twinge that I felt outside of the church. I push him back and see his fangs, this time glinting in the moonlight.

“Do you always wear them?” I ask.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” he says.

“Ugh. Are you one of those people so enraptured by fantasy that you had your teeth permanently capped? Lame,” I tease, ignoring the fact that I am still turned on despite this absurd character flaw. There is something so animalistic in his touch, so primal in my urges. Within seconds of being near Alec, I lose all sense of the world and just want to be touched. I hate girls who lose themselves in men, but this is not the same. I am aware of every decision I am making, of every part of myself that I am giving to him; what is different for me is that I want to give him even more than he is demanding.

“We do not always make the right choices in our youth,” he says.

I let him bite me. The fangs don’t break the skin but the possibility is there. When his lips reach mine, I feel my body ignite; his tongue tempts me and I want to take this further. I am growing wet and excited and his hands on my breasts aren’t nearly enough. I push them down between my legs and he unzips my jeans. My hunger is unstoppable and I don’t wait for him to get my pants off before I reach for his belt. He begins to breathe heavier and I almost have him freed when he suddenly stops. His fingers are right along the edge of my panties and I almost scream in agony, needing him to touch me.

“No,” he says. “I can’t.”

“Please,” I beg, while he drags out the moment, his fingers inches away from the satisfaction I crave. He tugs his hand away and zips my jeans, before buttoning his own pants and ending the moment way too prematurely.

“No, this is wrong. We can’t do this. It’s dangerous, Nora.”

“We appear to be at an impasse,” I tell him. “You claim to want me desperately, yet every time we get close, you panic.”

“It’s not panic. I am only looking out for you. You don’t understand.
Not again. I can’t go through this again.” His hands make lazy circles on my back; I need him in more ways than he is willing to give me but there is no way I can stop. “But oh, how I want to…”

“Alec, I need you. Please. You’re not taking advantage-”

“I promised you more than this. If I’m going to bring you with me into darkness, at least get to know me first. Tomorrow night. Coffee?”

He stands and I lie on the grass, shirtless, as he buckles his belt.

“Is this a game to you? Drive a girl wild so she can’t deny you in the end?” I ask.

“I don’t play games, Nora. See you tomorrow.” He walks away and I almost cry out, but it seems childish and a little pathetic. My body is hungry and I don’t think I can handle not having him. I pull my sweatshirt on, though, and wonder
what the hell I’ve gotten myself into. His silhouette has faded in the darkness, but his image is scorched on my memory.

****

During mythology the next day, I have trouble concentrating for two reasons. First of all, after I returned last night from my - well, whatever it was - with Alec, he was all I could think about. Second, when I made it back, distracted by thoughts of him, I found Scarlet sitting up on her bed. She was grinning to herself as she stared at her phone before she went on to share extensive details about her escapades with “Henry.” This all culminated in her showing me a sext he sent her. An extremely graphic sext complete with a visual aid. Now, I can’t seem to focus on the story of Icarus while “Henry” and his dirty secrets run through my mind as he speaks.
Damn you, Scarlet. I really liked this class.

I look down at my notes at the end of class and see that all I’ve written is Alec’s n
ame. About eighty times. There are even a few hearts. Awesome. Now I’m becoming a stalker. A 12-year-old stalker. Next thing you know I’ll be passing him notes asking him to circle “yes” or “no” if we’re actually anything. I tear out the page and crumple it, dropping it in my messenger bag, and I turn my attention back to Henry. He’s talking about the next section we are studying. Turns out it will be Biblical mythology.

“I advise you all to brush up on your knowledge of the Bible,” he says. There is a collective groan and he smiles. “Note I did not say you had to attend church. I simply imagine that, as members of a Western civilization, you are familiar with the stories of Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, David and Goliath, and others. However, one of your required texts
was
a guide to the Bible and its stories, so please do not come in unprepared for the next class. We’re starting with Genesis only, so you have time to refresh.”

He dismisses the class but motions for me to wait. I look around the room, thinking of reasons to avoid staying behind. Scarlet seems happy, I guess, but the whole situation puts me in an incredibly uncomfortable position. I don’t have
a lot of deep, dark secrets so I’m not sure I’m the kind of girl who’s good at keeping them. Not to mention that I now can’t stop thinking about my professor in all of his glory - which is, sadly, kind of glorious. I try to maintain my composure and remember that I do love this class, even if I know what his penis looks like. My eyes dart back and forth between him and the door, but it’s my nerdy obsession with learning that wins out in the end.

“You wanted me to stay?” I ask, adjusting my bag, which for some reason continues to fall off my shoulder.

“Nora, I sense that you’re bothered by recent events.”

I give up on the bag and drop it on the floor. “I mean, it’s weird. It is really tough to pay attention in class when Scarlet tells me
everything
.”

He laughs. “Well, maybe she and I should talk about keeping some things private. Is that the only problem, though? You seem a little - off. Usually you’re enthusiastic in class but you didn’t seem focused today. Actually, it’s been different since the party. I would hate to think that I-”

I lean on the desk behind me. “No, it’s really not that big of a deal. It’s just... I have so many questions. Who are these people who threw the party and what was that? It was so strange, but also... I don’t know what to call it. A little perfect? But then, what happened to Chloe? Is she okay? And, fine, I guess I am a little concerned about what’s happening with you and Scarlet, you know since I don’t want anyone to get in trouble. I mean, it’s all of that and I just… and, also, why is Alec so weird?”

He sits on the desk next to me and shakes his head. I don’t blame him; my incoherent barrage would leave most people speechless.
“One at a time. As far as I know, the vampire clan, as they call themselves, has been active for years. I’ve been going to their parties for a while now; they’re a break from all this. For me, they’re also, I guess, a little research as well. You must see how easily we embrace the myths that we claim we don’t believe. Plus, escapism is a natural part of our psychology; we all have the desire for a world beyond us, a freedom from the inhibitions of our routines. The chance to be a part of the stories we derive so much pleasure from in our mundane and boring lives.”

I nod, because I can’t express what I am thinking in words. The party was all of those things, but now I feel as if the fantasy has infiltrated my normal life and that the ennui of basic existence is stifling. I want to be the girl I was that night, a princess enraptured by a prince; instead, I am a college girl obsessed with a guy who doesn’t want to have sex with her and whose roommate is banging her professor.
So, yes, I suppose I
do
desire a world beyond myself. Who wouldn’t? The problem is that it’s exactly what Henry said - escapism. Desire for something that isn’t real.

“It is tempting to let ourselves fall prey to the idea that the fantasy could be more than just that,” Henry continues, “that we are only waiting to be woken and brought into our true selves.
But you must remember, it was just a party. A beautiful and transporting party, but no different from the ones that occur every weekend in the frats. Just more dresses.” He smiles. I do love dresses.

“I felt …
something,” I tell him, confiding in him because maybe he can understand. “It was like I had been waiting my entire life to go to that party, to enter that world.”

“I know but it was just a party. As for Chloe, I fear she also felt a little too transported.”

“Is that why she sleeps all day and walks aimlessly at night? And quotes
Dracula
?” I ask.

He chuckles. “She quotes
Dracula
? Oh dear, that is pretentious.” I laugh, too, but there is nothing funny about the fact that Chloe appears to be losing her mind. “I imagine she’s convinced herself she was bitten by a real vampire. Like I said that night, she will be back to normal in no time. She just needs to let the delusion wear off. I hope, obviously, that it doesn’t take too long. Besides, Bram Stoker would never approve.”

“Yeah,” I reply, but I worry that Chloe has passed the point of no return. Part of me fears that I am not too far off myself, but at least I don’t think Alec is supernatural. I just think he is super frustrating. Still, Henry is a doctor of mythology, not medicine and he cannot fix Chloe; she can only help herself. I can’t help but wonder whom she met that night; I know firsthand that some of the guys at the party have some convincing moves.

“As for me and Scarlet, I like her, Nora. I like her quite a bit in fact. You cannot deny she is phenomenal.”

“No, she’s perfect,” I agree.
And here we go.
I’ve listened to this speech about how amazing Scarlet is more times than I count.

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