A Ghoul's Kiss Book 1 Page 8

  “I need to take you home ASAP,” she says as she makes a left at the red light. The digital clock display on the dash glows four o’clock; it doesn’t get dark for another two hours.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Eric is blowing up my phone.” The phone rings again, and this time she answers. I can hear Eric yelling from where I sit.

  “She is right here, Eric. Calm down! Geez!” she yells back. He says something else to her, and her knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

  “Here, talk to your angry mate before I kill him.” She shoves the phone in my hand.

  “Hey.”

  “Are you okay?” Eric’s voice is warm and gentle.

  “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I thought something happened because Odessa didn’t answer.” He pauses for a minute.

  “Are you on your way home?” he asks with concern. Home. I never thought of Eric’s mansion as my home. Does Eric want me to stay there with him forever? Or does he mean nothing by it?

  “Sarah, are you there?”

  “Yea, I’m here, and yeah, we are on our way back,” I answer again.

  “Okay, I’ll see you soon. Put Odessa back on the phone.”

  I do what he says, they chat some more, and she hangs up the phone.

  By the time Odessa drives through the metal gates, the sky is pitch black, and the stars are not out. She kills the engine as Eric runs down the stairs. He glares at Odessa as he opens the passenger door. He wraps me in a tight hug like he hasn’t seen me in ages.

  “You sure you’re okay?” He assesses me, making sure I don’t have any cuts or bruises. I wave him off.

  “I’m all right, Eric. I promise.”

  He holds my hand as we walk upstairs. Kate and Mae stand by the foyer. Kate says hey to us, and Mae looks at me with obvious hate in her eyes. I want to glare back at her, but I don’t. I can only pity her after what Odessa told me.

  As we stand in front of my bedroom door, Eric places his hand on the knob.

  “I have a surprise for you,” he says, opening the door. When I walk in, a blank canvas is in the middle of the room, and various paints and brushes are spread on the dresser.

  “I’m going to paint you.” Eric kisses my neck.

  “Naked?” I tease.

  “Do you want me to?” He nibbles on my earlobe, and my body responds immediately.

  “I wouldn’t mind,” I say, in a flirty voice.

  “I have something else planned. Go lie down.” I obey.

  “Grab the book and read.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re beautiful when you’re relaxed and thinking.”

  Grabbing the book, I begin to read the first few pages, but my mind drifts to Eric. I peer at him. He perches on the barstool with a brush in his left hand. He looks intense as he strokes the brush on the canvas.

  “Continue to read,” he orders. I divert my attention back to the book. My eyes wander to his hard biceps, and I imagine how big his shaft is and the sounds I would make with him inside me. Dirty thoughts of him touching me, playing with my nipples, and him caressing me fill my mind. I’m supposed to be protecting my heart, but I’m confused because I don’t know what I want.

  “Sarah?” Eric interrupts my thoughts.

  “Hmm?”

  “Look.” I study the painting. He used the right color for my eyes. He painted my facial expression when I read, and the way my hair falls over my shoulders. In the picture, I look peaceful and content.

  “Wow, this is awesome.” Eric hangs the picture on the wall above the dresser to dry. I lie back on the bed, propping my head on a satin pillow. Eric’s red eyes glow.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asks.

  “Nothing,” I lie. The mattress dips as he lies next to me. He strokes my stomach. My sex aches with desire.

  “You’re lying,” he smirks.

  “I’m not lying.”

  “You are; you smell like lavender.”

  “Meaning?”

  “You’re aroused. What are you thinking about?”

  “Sex,” I say blushing.

  “Go into detail.” My nipples are so hard they could cut through my cotton shirt. I don’t respond.

  “Don’t be shy, I won’t bite.” Eric’s voice is deep.

  “You touching me.” He traces his fingers on the button of my jeans.

  “What you want me to do to you?” My panties become wet at his words.

  When I don’t answer, Eric presses his lips to mine, and I kiss him back. He unbuttons my pants.

  “Eric, please. We can’t,” I say between kisses.

  “We can’t do what?”

  “This,” I say. He taps his index finger on my lips.

  “Shut your brain off, you think too much: just feel.”

  Eric tilts my chin with his fingers and presses his soft lips to mine. Our lips part, and he slides his tongue in my mouth. The kiss is tender with love and desire. He pulls his shirt over his head; his chest is hard and his abs are chiseled. My body screams for him to fuck me. He pulls my shirt over my head, removing my pink lace bra. He sucks on my aching nipples making his way down to my stomach. Yanking my jeans off, he rips my pink panties. I gasp as he slides two fingers inside me.

  “You’re so tight down there,” he whispers.

  Eric unzips his pants and pulls them down exposing his boxers, his erection springs free and my mouth waters at the sight. He is freakishly huge. How the hell is he going to stick that in me? He lies on top of me, holding his own weight as he nibbles on my earlobe and eases inside me. I let out a cry.

  “Are you okay?” he asks gently.

  “I’m fine,” He is not all the way inside of me. How the hell can I handle this? He slides an inch into me, and I cry out again. Pain and pleasure ripple through me as he thrusts deeper. Our breaths labor, and I focus on the feel of him. Eric picks up speed, finding his rhythm. I moan even louder as I scratch his back. I pin my legs around him begging for more. Eric worships me, claiming me with his touch. Pleasure rushes through me as I orgasm, and my legs tremble uncontrollably. Eric continues to chase his own orgasm, and he collapses on top of me. He pulls out of me and flips me on my stomach.

  “I’m not finished with you,” he whispers. His breath tickles my ear, and my body burns with desire.

  A servant opens the red velvet drapes, and sunlight floods the room. I pull the covers over my head. My sex throbs. I’ve never had such intense, hard sex before. Did we make love last night? Because that’s how I feel right now—in love. Was it good for him? I’m the first human he’s ever been with, so I hope I didn’t suck last night. Once I hear the door close, I remove the covers, gazing around my new room. Eric is not in sight. His side of the bed is perfectly made. My heart begins to sink. Was this a casual fuck to him? He did disappear without saying anything. OH, MY GOD. He used me. He took advantage of me, coming in here sweet-talking me, using the “Don’t think, just feel” bullshit. Like an idiot, I fell for it. When I see him, I’m going to slap the shit out of him! He could have left a note or at least had enough balls to wait until I woke up, but no, he bails the minute I go to sleep. I care deeply for him. I was having thoughts about us being together. Ghoul men are just as bad as human men. They are all the same.

  I rush to the bathroom, turn on the faucet, and jump in the steamy shower. I scrub my body and my scalp in hopes of washing away his scent, his touch, and my feelings. Never again will I open up to anyone. Stepping out the shower, I wipe my body down with a towel. I look at myself in the mirror and realize I am crying. To make myself feel pretty, I put on some make up: just because I feel like shit doesn’t mean I have to look like it. I brush my wet hair into a messy bun. I wiggle my way into my clothes. My bedroom door opens. It must be the servant dropping off my breakfast.

  “Change the sheets.” I don’t want the smell of Eric in my room. Eric leans in the doorway, our eyes meet and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

  “Good mornin
g, beautiful,” he says. My breath hitches. He wraps his arms around my waist, and I turn around to face him.

  “Where were you? Where did you go?” Concern tinges my voice.

  “I was with David and Nicholas,” he murmurs. I lean my head against his hot chest, inhaling his zesty soap. Happiness floods my chest. He didn’t actually leave me; I panicked for no reason.

  “I… just.. thought,” I whisper.

  “You thought what?” he asks as he tilts my chin to look at him. Damn Eric for having good hearing.

  “Oh… nothing,” I plaster a smile on my face.

  “I have to go meet Dr. Edward in thirty minutes,” I say.

  He kisses the palm of my hand.

  “No, you aren’t. Not today. We’re playing hooky. I already talked to Edward.”

  “What do you have planned for us today?”

  “We can get back in bed for now.” He nips my bottom lip. “And later, we can hang out in Port Angeles.”

  “Okay,” I say, as Eric unbuttons his jeans.

  Eric drives me to Café Garden; they have the best salads in town. I order a Chipotle Chicken Salad with a coke, and Eric orders himself water.

  “What do you want to do after this?” I ask, slathering ranch dressing on my salad.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Can we drive to North Gate Mall in Seattle?” I ask, stabbing the chicken with my fork.

  “Okay.”

  “Also, I want to go to a bar with Vanessa.” He nods before gulping down his water.

  I fish for my phone in my purse and send Vanessa a quick e-mail asking her about her plans tonight.

  “How many ghouls are in here?” I ask, as Eric gazes around the restaurant.

  “Four. You see the couple over there in the corner?” He tilts his head to the booth on the far-right side. My eyes follow his direction. The ghouls appear to be deeply in love. The woman kisses the man on the lips, and he whispers in her ear. I face him and nod.

  “They’re ghouls.”

  “Oh,” I say.

  “You see the female who is feeding her young on my left?” I look at her. The woman is breastfeeding her child. A blue blanket is draped over the baby’s head; the baby’s feet dangle from under the blanket.

  “She’s a ghoul.”

  It amazes me how they can blend in with us, and we will never know. After I finish my meal, we head to North Gate Mall and begin shopping for clothes. Eric looks awkward standing in the store. He follows me around, and women try to get his attention by talking to him, but he ignores them. I go to a dressing room and try on a few outfits. When I finish trying on the clothes, I purchase the items, and we leave the store. We walk to Bath and Body Works to buy my favorite body wash and lotion, Cashmere Glow. A ghoul has the nerve to ask him out on a date right in front of me. I try to keep my jealousy under control. I keep forgetting he is famous among his people, and women are going to throw themselves at him. Questions plague my mind. How many women has he slept with? Does the sex between us seem normal? My insecurity eats at me. I want to make sure I didn’t suck in bed. I’ve never had this problem before. Do other women feel this way? Is this a normal way of thinking? After I check out at the counter, I grab Eric’s hand and watch as the ghoul frowns. I want her to know he belongs to me. What am I thinking? Are we in a relationship? We haven’t discussed the whole dating world.

  I walk to a bench and place the bags next to me.

  “Are you okay?” I ask Eric.

  “It’s awkward to be here, because I don’t go out in the human world,” he says.

  “Why don’t you?”

  “I never had any interest in the human world until now.” I blush at his answer. My phone chimes with an e-mail from Nessa.

  I’ll see you there, heffa Your date better be hot. My boyfriend says he won’t be able to make it because he has to work tonight.

  I reply to her message.

  Okay, see you there. I’m sorry he flaked out.

  She replies

  No worries.

  I tuck the phone back into my purse. I don’t know how to ask Eric this question, so I am going to blurt it out and hope it eases the awkwardness between us.

  “Um.. Eric?” He brushes his lips against my knuckles.

  “How was last night for you? Was I bad?” I avert my eyes to the navy carpet, embarrassed by my question. He cuffs my chin and kisses my lips.

  “No, you’re great in the sheets.” His voice is sweet as honey. My cheeks flame at his words.

  “How many women have you slept with, Eric?”

  He gives me that you-really-don’t-want-to-know look.

  “Three hundred.” My mouth drops to the floor. I keep forgetting he is over seven hundred years old.

  Then my thoughts go into a whirlwind. I start going into doctor mode and thinking about all the sexually transmitted diseases. Ghouls don’t get human diseases; I learned that working with Dr. Edward. But, what about pregnancy? I touch briefly on the topic. Could I get pregnant by Eric? I love kids, but I’m not ready to have them. Hell, my life has been turned upside down, and I’m just coming to grips with the idea that supernatural beings exist. Plus, I want to be married before I have a baby. Jessie told me to never have a baby out of wedlock. Did Eric come in me? Panic constricts my chest.

  “Could a male ghoul and a human have a child?” How could I be so irresponsible? I never had sex without a condom. Okay, that’s a lie. Before I got sick with cancer, I lost my virginity to Fred, and he didn’t use one. I didn’t use a condom with a few guys in college. When I attended med school and had to learn about the different diseases, that was an eye opener for me. I vowed to never again have unprotected sex with a man. And here I am being stupid.

  “Yea, it’s very rare. The only half-ghoul I’ve ever met is Jack,” he states.

  “Jack? The guy I stitched up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is that why he is the only ghoul I’ve seen that has mis-matched eyes?”

  He nods. I don’t want to take any chances; I’m going to contact a gynecologist as soon as possible to prescribe me birth control. I do not want children.

  Next Door Gastro Pub is a little spot where Vanessa and I used to hang when we were attending Seattle University. They have a local band playing, and the food served here is awesome. I grab a table since Nessa hasn’t arrived yet. The waitress collects our orders, and I inform her that we are waiting for someone. Lady Gaga’s Monster booms through the speakers.

  “Vanessa is like family to me, Eric. She is as important to me as you are,” I blurt out. My nerves are causing a bad case of verbal diarrhea. His lips brush against my forehead. Vanessa sashays to the table. Her complexion is pale. Her elegant scarf compliments her yellow dress. God, she can dress. I stand up from the table and hug her tight. Eric shakes her hand. I hope she is not aware of Eric’s abnormal body temperature. She sits across from us, surveying Eric.

  “You’re Eric?” she asks, removing the scarf from her neck. Eric nods, and his hand entwines with mine. The waitress collects Nessa’s order and leaves.

  “Tell me about your boyfriend?” I ask.

  “He’s a delivery man.”

  “Are you guys serious?” I ask her.

  “As serious as we can get,” Vanessa deadpans. When Vanessa says that, it means she is not into him. In other words, she likes to sleep with him but not enough to be serious with him. I don’t know how comfortable she is talking about her personal life in front of Eric, so I will leave it at that. Later, I’ll shoot her an e-mail drilling her with a bunch of questions.

  “Tell me about yourself, Eric. What do you do for a living?” Her eyes assess him.

  “He’s a CEO of a company,” I blurt out.

  “Yeah, what she said.” Eric gives me a crooked smile.

  “What are your intentions with my friend?” Vanessa demands. Oh God, I was afraid of this. I didn’t want to talk about this topic so soon. We haven’t discussed the extent of our relationship. We just
started having sex last night.

  “I plan to be with her for a while,” he says smoothly.

  “Are you guys serious?” Vanessa peers at the both of us.

  Neither of us says a word. Eric squeezes my hand, calming my anxiety.

  The waitress comes with our food. I bite into the black and bleu burger; delicious. Vanessa and I eat in silence. Once we’re finished eating, the waitress cleans our table. Vanessa asks how we met. Eric lies and says through a mutual friend. She embarrasses me with stories about my drunken exploits in college.

  “Here is the deal, Eric,” Vanessa continues. “Sarah is my best friend. You’re the first guy she ever showed interest in, so if you break her heart, I will cut your balls off. Do I make myself clear?” she asks, plastering a fake smile on her face.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Eric says.

  “Excuse me, I have to go to the ladies’ room.” Vanessa gets up and leaves.

  “Sorry about Vanessa’s threat,” I say apologetically.

  “I can understand what the female is saying.”

  “What are we?” I bite my thumbnail, avoiding eye contact.

  He tilts my chin so I’ll look at him. I gaze into his dark eyes.

  “Whatever you want to be.”

  Thrown by his words, I wave at the waitress to bring me beer and cider. What do I want? I want a serious relationship, but with him being a ghoul, could I possibly keep up the demands of being his girlfriend? I don’t know. I do know I like him a lot, and I want to spend more time with him. He doesn’t want to pressure me into being with him. I don’t know the first thing about being a girlfriend. What makes the situation more complicated is the feelings I have for him; he has the power to crush me, and it scares the shit out of me. I don’t like this hold he has on me.