Rhea basked in the warmth of the lavender-scented bath. Thick bubbles crested against her breasts as the heated water worked its magic, soothing her muscles. With her eyes closed, she let her mind drift, conjuring the memory of his face, the ghost of his touch, and the lingering heat of his kisses.
One hand slid down between her thighs, her fingers tracing slow, deliberate paths through the soft curls of her pubic hair. At the same time, her other hand grazed over a hardening nipple, teasing the sensitive peak. Her movements quickened, circling her clitoris with growing intensity until a wave of release crashed over her. Rhea surrendered to the sensation, momentarily sinking beneath the surface of the water as her entire body went limp with satisfaction.
Later, dry and standing naked before the bathroom mirror, she took a long look at her reflection. “I might not be the reigning beauty of Le Bonne Parish,” she mused with a small, knowing smile, “but this body has certainly held its own.” Chuckling to herself, she pulled on a pair of panties and draped an oversized football jersey over her head.
The night air was warm, though a cooling breeze had begun to drift in from the north. Rhea opened her bedroom window and peered into the deep shadows, where the only light came from a moon playing hide-and-seek behind the clouds. In the distance, the sharp cry of an owl pierced the silence, a lonely predator on the wing.
Climbing into bed, she snuggled into the crisp, clean scent of the linen sheets. She reached for her copy of ‘Salem’s Lot, picking up exactly where she had left off. She wasn’t one to believe in vampires, yet the story stirred something primal and unsettling within her. After all, she was a girl from the Louisiana bayous, and in the wetlands, people grew up with their own distinct ideas about the nature of evil.
The stillness of the night was broken only by the rhythmic trill of cicadas and the subtle, shifting sounds of the darkness. As Rhea read, the sheer drapes billowed and sighed, caught in the soft breeze flowing through her open window. The chilling scene in the book—a vampire lurking just outside, begging for entry—intertwined with the ghostly movement of the fabric, sending a sharp shiver of trepidation down her spine.
Leaving the safety of her bed, she moved to close the window. In the pale, silver glow of the moonlight, she thought she caught a glimpse of movement in the field. It looked almost like the silhouette of a man slipping behind a tree. She quickly killed the lights and returned to the glass, peering out to see if she could make sense of the shadow.
Nothing.
Finally, she resigned herself to the idea that she had simply spooked herself, her imagination fueled by the novel. Yet, just as she lowered the window casing and clicked the lock into place, she nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden, sharp chime of the doorbell.
“What the hell?” she muttered, her heart racing. “Who in the hell is here this late at night?”
Standing tentatively by the door, she asked in a small, timid voice, “Who is it?”
“It’s Boyd,” came the reply.
“Boyd?” she repeated, searching her memory.
“We met last night. At the bar,” he reminded her.
Rhea opened the door a crack, but as soon as she recognized him, she threw it wide. “How did you even find me?” she asked, her pulse still erratic from the surprise. Boyd told her that Carolyn had given him the address; he’d been unable to get her out of his head, convinced that the spark between them was too real to ignore.
Yes, there was definitely a spark, Rhea thought, memories of their heated encounter in the bar booth rushing back—specifically the way his hands had felt roaming beneath her shirt. “Yeah. Sure. Come on in,” she said, stepping aside.
The moment the door latched shut, he reached for her, and the contact sent a jolt of pure adrenaline through her veins. Their eyes locked for a heartbeat before their embrace ignited into a feverish kiss. Her mouth parted for him, her breath hitching as his tongue explored and his hands began to wander over her curves. The tension in the room reached a breaking point.
Urgency took over. Rhea reached up and pulled his shirt over his head, exposing the hard, muscular planes of his chest. Without hesitation, she tugged her own jersey off, casting it aside before leading him toward the bedroom.
She pulled him down onto the bed, locking him in a deep, searing kiss while her hands roamed hungrily over his backside. Boyd worked quickly to shove his pants down, kicking them aside with focused urgency before his mouth found her breast, hungrily taking her nipple between his lips. He kissed a feverish trail down the length of her body, sliding her panties away to expose the soft, brown hair of her pubic region. His tongue traced a light, tantalizing path downward, barely grazing her skin but setting her nerves on fire.
Rhea entwined her fingers in his hair, guiding him firmly to her heat as she spread her legs and hooked one over his back in invitation. Without a moment’s hesitation, Boyd’s tongue found her, tasting her nectar with soft, rhythmic strokes before taking her clitoris between his lips to tease and torment her. The sensation was agonizingly perfect. Arching her back, she thrust herself against his face, desperate to consume every drop of pleasure he offered.
Her first climax arrived with a sudden, violent intensity. A guttural moan of pure surrender filled the room. “I want you inside me!” she urged. Boyd needed no second invitation. Positioning himself between her thighs, he drove home with one powerful thrust, burying himself deep within her. As he established a steady, driving rhythm, Rhea arched upward to meet every plunge, the heavy slap of his body against hers echoing the frantic pace of their shared passion.
Rhea’s nails dug deep into his backside, her body arching as she urged him to drive deeper and harder. Another shattering orgasm wrecked through her, leaving her breathless and trembling. She could feel his pace quickening, his presence within her seeming to grow even more commanding, filling her completely. Her eyes remained squeezed shut, reveling in the raw, unadulterated pleasure of the moment.
A low, primal growl escaped Boyd’s throat as his own climax mounted. His eyes snapped open, his lips pulling back to reveal a startling transformation. When Rhea opened her eyes, she was paralyzed by a flash of terror: Boyd’s canine teeth had become elongated and lethally sharp, and his gaze held an eerie, supernatural glow. Driven by his lust, he plunged his fangs into her breast, tasting her lifeblood.
To her amazement, there was no pain. Boyd lifted his head, then bit into the skin of his own forearm. As he rubbed his blood over her fresh wounds, they closed and healed instantly before her very eyes.
“Fear not, lovely lady,” he whispered, his voice soothing. “I mean you no harm. I only wanted to taste you. You are safe with me”.
Though confusion swirled in her mind, his steely gaze exerted a strange, comforting influence over her, making her feel protected in his arms. She couldn’t fully grasp her emotions, but she knew one thing: she was still hungry for his lips and desperate to experience the powerful ecstasy he had awakened within her once more.