Daylight - Book 1 (No Death for the Wicked) (7 page)

His hand
is fastened to the handle as his eyes stroll over me, a puzzling look is planted on his face. His mind weeding through his state of surprise when finally he says, “Do you need a ride somewhere?” 

“Um..Yeah, to the H
otel. Think you can handle that?”

He signals the chauffeur to drive on and his undismayed eyes return back to mine. The night breeze mixes well with the smell of leather. The passenger roof is wide open and the stars shower the dark and somber sky.  I adjust myself in the lush seat, crossing my legs and glare at the champagne bottle. The thought of drinking harasses my maturing thirst, and there's nothing in the world that can knock off this behavior. Grinding my teeth together in a lame attempt to seem stable, I cast a forged smile.

“I've had the pleasure in visiting the Cathedral on several occasions, but I have to say, I've never had an escort— Ahem...” He imitates a diverted cough, concealing a hidden grin. 

“Hitch a ride?” I butt in on his ramblings while I dethrone my feet from the torture devices they call heels. He extends a well sized hand for me to shake. This is the moment when my dependable glamour would become most useful and I can try to substitute my needs with him. 

“I'm Nixon, and you are?”

I glide my hand into his and begin to use my tricks of the trade, pulling him intimately closer
. I whisper, “Does it matter...?” My eyes clash into his sky-blues, transcending him from a man in control to a man transfixed, more than eager to accommodate. I try to block out Graham as my lips poise over, fangs aching to be present, body coiled so tight I'm ready to pounce.

The scent of his stout cologne rattles my senses in all the wrong ways, his eyes dissolve before me and all I can smell and see
is
Graham.
I can't do this.
Remembering his hand grasping my own I shake it free, using what little tack I have left I tell him, “You're going back to the Cathedral and forget that I was even here.” His eyes still glued to me, he nods mirroring my vigorous nod and I bolt out of the car.

As luck has it
, I flash next to the river walk where I can easily leg it to the Hotel. Carrying my heels in hand as I walk gives me the time to
get a fucking grip.
I actually thought my hunger for blood would cure this throbbing, juvenile ache. I want
him
, I want Graham so bad that it hurts and I was willing to use somebody to kill this need inside me. Even if it only lasts an hour, or two, and hell better have some mercy because things will get a little messy with a horny vampire on the loose. 

I unlock the door to my suite and chunk my shoes to the floor. I make a path straight for the shower, thinking, no
hoping
this ridiculous nagging, conjuring scenario will settle down. He's Death with a capital
‘D’ and
I'm a vamp seriously lacking in sex. Stripping the dress off, I take the chance to study my face in the dual mirrors, inspecting my mending lip. That's the up-side to my immortal life, we heal fast. My outward appearance matches my inside frustration, I snag my toothbrush, foam up my mouth, brush, spit, and seize the shower before I decide to change my mind. Lathering the soap I brood over Graham, our dance, and the indescribable way he touched me. My mind flits through every stroke, every caress, and I look down to find I'm nothing but suds.
AHHH! Damn you Reaper!

I rinse off and pad my way to the bedroom in a pl
ush cotton bathrobe. I jerk the duvet back and crawl into bed. For shits and grins and mainly to keep my sanity in check, I flip to the music channel on the forty-two inch flat-screen TV. Folding the sheet snugly around my chest, and listen to
Placebo
, a second passes and I grunt amused at the fuckin' frilly room I'm staying in. This bed is monstrous and I ponder about how many others have laid in this soppy romanticist bed. How many slept, how many had sex, how many wanted to be with someone and couldn't? 

I fling the sheet off and kick until it's nothing but a white jumbled ball of mess at the edge of the bed. I plop one arm over my face and blow out a rush of aggravated air. My skin prickles with an unbearable restlessness and I'm growing more depressed. It's impossible to get him out of my mind. What if I use this to my own advantage? Just like Estella said even though the point may be moot, I can still use it to my
advantage. It's not the first time I’ve fantasized about him in bed. I mean why fight it?

I close my eyes and untie the belt on the robe, pulling it open
, I guide my hand downward. Relaxing and allowing the music in the room to take me and my convoluted imagination far away. Both of my palms are flat as I graze them across my body, my motions are gentle at first as I use the tip of my fingers to tweak my nipple. Twisting and teasing it till its engorged and stiff, my natural response kicks in, my mouth parts as my fangs lengthen. I'm radiating off a heat that tells me I'll explode in less than a nanosecond if I don't slow it down.

A heaviness presses against my body and my eyes fly open, Graham's form is here with me, but not his full embodiment. He's
neither a ghost nor a God and I'm unsure if I should be outraged or hopeful with him for spying on me. “
What the hell, Graham
?!”  An all too potent smile suits his perfectly proportioned face, but he doesn't answer me. His hand resumes where mine were, spreading my legs wider while I'm desperately soliciting myself, moaning and aching for a sample of what he has to offer. I know, I'm shameless and immodest when it comes to him, but what if this is my only chance?

His middle finger drifts toward my throbbing nub and just barely touches me, and I think I might just die if I wasn't already an undead immortal.
He slips his finger inside my core, thrusting in and out greedily and then coursing a long causal stroke back up to my swelling wet clit. Every nerve in me is on fire, raging and combusting from the tips of my toes all the way to my mouth, agonizingly my fangs long to sink into his flesh. His movements are smooth and calculated, repeating this stimulating act over and over. The pattern he has builds until I'm on the brink of mass destruction and I faintly skim my mouth along his jaw warning him how close I am to coming.

His blue eyes race over me in mid-stroke, I clasp both hands on either side of his face, heaving the dark threads of my hair that splay across my gaping mouth, I whisper out, “Reaper, what are you doing to me? You're driving me senseless.” Searching his eyes as he smiles cunningly down at me
and his fingers carry on, heightening my senses. Gliding and entering another finger into me, he keeps a slow madding pace. I squirm and rock my hips faster angling a direct hit each time he thrusts.

I'm at my most crucial point as his fingers are fucking me, peaking that explosive pressure build
ing and building, he can't stop. He better not stop, because there's no turning back now. My thirst to drink tempts me as my muscles contract and I groan out his name. I fiercely try to hook him closer as I meet my climax, he resists, but not entirely as his tongue, a glutton for punishment, invades my blood hungry mouth.

He rolls his tongue boldly around mine combining our urgency together, he wants something from me
. He wants more than he can have right now. One minute he's passive and then the next he's aggressive, dragging his teeth across my lower lip, daringly he flicks his tongue along the tips of my penetrating fangs. His one hand rests beside my head steadying himself as he lifts his fingers from me, I'm oversensitive I can feel every inch of him strained against my core. He taunts his full bottom lip out to me and I'm failing miserably with my cut rate limits of control, I want to taste him, lick him, and bite him. My mind runs rabid imagining him underneath me, taking everything I foolishly crave.

I know I can't taste him, but nevertheless my own eager lips curve back, fangs fully exposed and I snap menacingly at his soft, tender lip only to have him insert his finger inside my mouth. He cocks his head coolly to the side watching my reaction, without a solitary word he makes it clear who's in charge. His eyes narrate an entirely different story than what I had imagined, he levels his face with mine, staring at my mouth as he outlines my moistened parted lips. I roll my tongue lightly following his shadowy touch
. He breaks his pattern and rushes his finger inside prodding me to suck him. I grip his hand and forcefully motion him, prompting his finger further and further inside my mouth.

I'm purposely climbing up to another orgasm and he sends me a look I can't read. “
Mattie...
“He breathes a warning in barely a whisper.

My gut spirals into a massive knot and I know what he
’s going to say before he even says it. “
I can't stay...
” I suck the last flavor from his finger and swallow, and stare at the spacious ceiling above me. Alone.

I roll myself next to my pil
low and scream, “Fuck!”

*

In my dormancy I'm nudged awake, peskily. It's just the beginning of the light hours and I know I haven't been out that long. I'm finally able to dilute my internal fantasies with Graham, his unruly hands, and his fiendish lips and hang up a 'Do Not Disturb' sign mentally so I can get some shuteye. But the sheets keep vanishing and I keep patting the damn bed down with my eyes still closed. “What the fuck?” I grumble out.

Something bumps the bed. “Rise and shine party girl.” A male's voice goads, I flip over on my back and drag my hands down my face. Peeking through my spread out fingers I see three very blurry, distorted images. I scrunch my brows together and strain to make out who the bastards are standing at the foot of my bed. I conceal my unclothed body and prop myself up on my elbows. Gripping the edging of the robe I bore a hole at Emerick, Varen, and some other newcomer that's scowling at me.

“This better be earth-shattering, Emerick,” I warn. 

“You need to come with us,” Varen canons out.

“I've already punched out. I'm not on company time.” I state regarding each unhumorous face. The vamp renting space beside Emerick extends his hand out, his long studded cuff slopes off his wrist making the steel strap buckles clink together. He's a hair shorter than Emerick but the 'don't fuck with me' attitude urges me to gradually scoot to the side of the bed. The second my feet hit the cool floor Varen and Mr. Charmer clutch my arms and I'm shepherd out of the room, down the hall, and launched into the elevator. The numbers pulse as we climb to the top floor,
to the very top floor
.

“Anyon
e want to tell me what this is all about? I don't get a response back, not a peep, no disgusted grunt or a threatening glare, nothing. I'm flanked on either side. Their faces are blank as they stare placidly forward. The only idea I can dig up is that Krew has demanded to see me. I roll my shoulders back, take in a deep breath and mimic their footfalls as we troop down the hallway. Fifty-two paces and we arrive at a door with one word plated in brass,
Penthouse.
A quick heave from my robe, my belt is unraveled and I'm now standing buck naked. Varen hands my robe over to Emerick and I'm shoved into the room.

Chapter Six

Penthouse Room

The second the fuckers release me I spin around. My fists ready to slam into the door, but I catch the telltale scent. The door is embedded with silver. “Fuck!” I shout out and blow the strands of tangled waves of hair from my face. I turn and steadily examine the room. It's not unrealistic to relate that some people dream of staying in a luxurious hotel, exactly like this. The walls are painted with mother of pearl and if there
were
a stick of furniture in here I would bet it would be woven with gold and platinum. Naked, I search for something to cover my body. Not a damn thing in here— no drapes, no bed, not even a rug. The floors are adorned with marble, hardwood and bare, just as I am.

Since I'm on the top floor I would guess the view of the city from here would be impressive if it weren't for the heavy beige automatic shades that cover each massive window from floor to ceiling. I imagine how majestic the stunning scene would be, but what starts creeping me out is the thought of the shades rising during the day. My mind starts taking laps around the anxiety pool. How much time do I have? This is fucked-up crazy
. I'm in a five star, flamboyant hotel and at the same time, to me, it's more of a twisted glamorous version of a vampire incinerator.  I'm going to die in here if those damn shades go up in the daylight. Those asshole Elite bastards are worthless users. They promise me Daylight, but this is not what I had in mind. What did I do to them that's got their effin' panties in a wad?  I swear some people are just control freaks.

I look around the room again, hoping I missed something the first five times
I looked. Nothing. 
Well Mattie, you have royally fucked yourself this time
. I scan the room for a camera or intercom system, any way to communicate with
Mr
.
Krew
.  I guess a full dose of Mattie is more than these bastards can handle.
If
I ever get out of here... I will really need to re-evaluate my choice in friends. 

I cart myself over to the door and yell, “Hey!”

I’m careful not to touch it and listen for any sound, voices, footsteps, or any semblance of noise.

“Can anyone hear me?!” C'mon Mattie
, think. I cross my arms over my chest and pace. The feeling of dread swarms through me. “HELLO! This is a fucking joke, right?”

“No, I'm afraid this no joke, Miss Kinsley. You see this is not a game we play, this is our reality.” Krew's sinister voice crackles through an intercom source somewhere within the room but I can't seem to spot it.
Is he watching me too? Is he going to get off watching me freak the fuck out? 

“
You violated our engagement Miss Kinsley, I have been addressed that two clients were neglected with intent. Do you understand how this reflects on me, on the city of Solace?” I don't respond I'm still trying to figure out what the hell I did so wrong. “Don't worry, you soon will realize the severity of your unethical behavior. You break our code, you will burn.”

“What?! Whatever happened to a written warning? And
you’re on the job training program needs incentives. How the hell was I suppose to know I broke some fucking “
code
” I've never heard of anyway?”  

I can't believe this shit. My breathing hitches as the shutters on the windows make a loud click before I hear a smooth humming noise as the shade begins retracting. It barely allows the first light of day into the room. The crack of sunrise spills very slowly across the floor. I schlepp to the far wall, all this is happening too fucking fast for me,
and these assholes are going to kill me. There's not an inch within this room that will not be roasted by the sun. It's a room to shake and bake a vamp, and I suddenly have no interest in seeing the view.

“Hey!” I pound my open palm against the cold, hard wall. “Okay, I get it! I've stepped on someone's toes. Whatever it is, I won't do it again, besides the amenities in this place suck!” I spit out as the anger escapes my control and my fangs pierce my lip. While I'm venting, I'm watching the break of day bathe the floor. I pace, thread my fingers through my hair, and curse the day I ever stepped foot into Solace.

The war between me and the creeping light stakes a claim. I press my back along the wall.
Do I really want to watch as the sun glares down on me?  I could turn my back but that's an underhanded thing to do to myself, I came here for Daylight didn't I? Well... here I am motherfucker.

The motorized humming from the shutters stop
but my eyes are sealed shut, waiting for the burning pain to hammer me. I gradually pry one eye open, baffled. The room is basked in sunlight completely, except there's a shadow of darkness in front of me.

Krew

“Check the other CCTV screens see what's causing the distortion,” I order as I shift in my chair. I want her alive, but I want her to beg me for mercy, I want to hear her scream my name in shear terror. She must learn to honor the code and the only way for her to submit is to punish her. The twenty-six screens flicker with darkness, every single angle within the room is obstructed and my patience is wearing thin. And nothing would please me more than to suffocate the next life that walks in here with an inexcusable deduction on what has happened to our multimillion dollar surveillance equipment.

I rub the pad of my thumb over and over my fingers, waiting. The sound on the intercom is a high-pitched silence and I'm developing
a raging despondency with this situation. My intent is to demonstrate to her that she has no control. She is ultimately stripped of her choices. My decisions will be her decree. I want the best for my diligent employees and this...
this
ill-fortune with her will only make me more determined to get what I want. 

“A few more moments
, Sir. We believe it was just a minor malfunction. You should have visual within five seconds.” Emerick announces with confidence. I entwine my fingers as I lean closer to the screens. One screen shot at a time blinks on and each projection shows nothing. One by one I zoom in scouring the empty room.

“Varen! I want you in that room NOW!”    

Mattie

“Am I dead?” I breathe out.

“You look far from dead to me, besides I forgot my scythe today.” Graham's deep throaty voice prickles every tiny nerve in me, and his face transforms from the darkness. His blue eyes glisten even brighter than the room, and my body hits autopilot as my wits take a mini-vacation. I'm speechless. He's in a solid black wool coat that practically drags the floor. He looks like Death, a being that can and will plow the life right out of you. His tousled dark hair hangs untamed over his immortal eyes as he narrows his gaze at me.

“Graham, why do you keep doing this? A
re
you here to take me?” I finally sputter out as I still try to grasp the idea that he's actually standing right here with me.

“Yes, I am. But I'm not here to warden you off to the underworld.”

“Okayy... then what are you doing here?”

In my delusional mind I can't seem to stop picturing him in my head, I want to reach out and brush back his hair, and stare into those seductive eyes.
Why the fuck am I thinking of him at a time like this?
Irony is a part of my messed up life, you know, wishing for a sweet and painless death from him rather than the one that's heating up this room. I almost snort at myself when I realize I'm stark-naked.

“Reaper... my face is up here,” I explain tilting his chin upward with the tip of my finger. Forcing our eyes to collide might not have been the brightest idea, but then again, I'm not thinking straight anyway, the rays from the room are probably causing me to suffer dehydration. It's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.   

“Mattie, the view I have right now beats anything I could see behind me.”

“What is this, your lunch break? Or are you on the clock right now?”

“Let's just say that I'm on the clock, but using up what personal time I have to visit you.” He plants both his hands on either side of my head, shielding me as the sun rises higher.

“I need you to wrap your arms around me so I can get us out of here
—”

“Wait a second, do you think I'm so sun-fried that I've forgotten how you left me at the Cathedral and in my room
last night? You can not leave a vamp like that, Graham.” 

“You're just mad that I didn't finish what I started.”

“Fuck you!”

“Right here, right now?”

“Right here.
Right now
,” I state as I grasp the folds of his coat back and reveal the loose white linen shirt he's wearing. My hands weave past the rows of buttons. With both hands I tug roughly at the bottom of his collar spreading it open, and rip every single button off. My body gravitates closer to his, my breasts ache for him to touch me, but he can't. Not unless he wants me to burn. 

My fangs extend once my eyes witness the perfectness of his body. He's toned in all the right places, not overly bulky. He definitely scores a perfect ten when he's fully clothed to say the least, but right now with his shirt wrenched open like this, he's condemned
right off the charts. He's match-less to any other man or being I have ever contemplated over. I linger closer and inhale his scent. I can almost imagine licking a dark chocolate rose dipped in blood red wine. Sweet and tempting.

“Uh... ahem... I'm not your hostage lunch here, remember, I'm not your type,” he mocks with his hands still anchored firmly to the wall.

“Right,” I whisper and slide my hand down to his pants. He's rock hard, I fight the urge to sink my teeth into him. Instead, I stroke him. I find the clasp to unfasten his pants rather quickly, as I lean my back against the wall. I secure my leg on his hip still safe and shielded by his body. As if our movements were choreographed, his lips part, our eyes meet and he slips deep inside me, with my strength and his stamina the motion becomes a flawless, stimulating rhythm.

I have wanted him for so long and so badly, that I would willingly
breathe silver into my lungs just to be with him. To finally fathom the thought he's mounted over me in such a restrained way makes me wetter. I lose control over my suppression and let my fangs lengthen fully as our moans echo through the empty sunlit room. He buries himself to the hilt and then withdraws criminally slow, my nails dig further into his sides. The moment I realize my eyes have closed, I expose them to Graham's. I'm swept away by the ocean blue penetration he sears straight into me. There's no saving me, not now, not ever, not even Death himself could rescue me. I'm drowning in the depths of the unknown, lost in the intense pleasuring motion. My fingers twine through his thick dark hair as if I’m holding on to life, but in reality I'm privily asking him something entirely different. I want him to take me, to push me to the edge like no one has ever done before.

“Say it Mattie...” he demands as his body grinds into mine. “Say it...”

My nipples erect and tension builds in every sector of womanhood I have, his cool, methodical voice keeps repeating what he knows I need. In defiance I breathe out, “
Fuck me,
Graham
...”

“Harder...?” he
challenges. “Tell me Mattie, what you need,
how
you need it...” his words are as breathless as my own.

“Fuck... me...
harder
....” His vigorous thrust multiplies, the lustful sensation slams into me and in exactly zero point eight seconds later simultaneous orgasms rain all over me and I couldn't care less if I were walking into the realm of Hell. His own climax imprisons and dominates him, but his unearthly, brilliant blue eyes never leave mine, and for the briefest moment I feel totally and completely free, no gnawing hunger, no fear, no dependency for another being to fuel my own existence. 

I pull myself closer, and nip at his lower lip timidly, studying his determined expression. “Graham?”

His grave eyes focus back and he grins knowing he's still throbbing inside me, “Yes, Mattie?”

“Don't ever leave me again...” He chuckles at my idle threat. 

“Ready to get out of this place?” he questions as the corner of his delicious lip draws upward. He retorts, “I'm dying here...  to touch you.”

He doesn't need to tell me twice, I mold my body to his and
darkness enshrouds us, two blinks later we are in a pitch-dark apartment I don't recognize. I really don't care at this point if we are on the top of Mount fucking Everest or the Dead Sea, when we are together it's like throwing gasoline on a fire, it's eventually going to get hotter.