Dracula's Kiss Read online

  What the hell was I thinking falling for that controlling idiot, eh?

  “Another Kiss, please, husband.” Dracula did as ordered, sharp to the ball and eager to please, while managing to keep his top hat in place. It amazed her that it hadn’t fallen off yet.

  Nick had disappeared from sight. So had the author witch.

  “Another kiss?” This time, instead of pouring her a drink, he leaned over the bar and planted a smacker on her cheek. His action stunned her into freeze mode and gave him time to move to her mouth. She wobbled and reached to steady herself, landing her hands on the nearest support. Which happened to be him. Big mistake. He must have taken it as an act of passion because he deepened his kiss, smoldering her on the spot.

  Guilt hit her the instant his mouth met hers. Flirtation, sure. Lip on lip contact? She couldn’t do it to Nick the prick. Her anger spewed over his name at that moment, but tomorrow things would be back to normal and she would have to live with the guilt of kissing a stranger. And if he caught her in the act, he’d bring it up every single time she didn’t agree with him about something. No more lip locks with sexy vampires tonight.

  She scrambled to standing and asked, “Which way to the porta-potties?” Flustered, she made sure her boobs were still restrained then smoothed down the crinkled lines of her dress. Anything but look at him.

  “That way. Follow the staircase down and take a left. I hope I didn’t—”

  “I’m fine. I’ll be back, so make me another drink.” She hiccupped and threw her hand over her mouth. “Better make it water.”

  He smiled, all cocky-like. “Yes, Mrs. D.”

  Ugh, Mrs. D.

  She took his direction. With sporadically placed candle sconces as the only source of light, she wished she’d worn her glasses. And the uneven floor made her regret the four-inch heel on her patent leather boots. With each step, they caught in the cracks. She took them off and pushed them against the wall, figuring she could pick them up on her way back. Down the narrow and winding steps, she padded. Long dress and bare feet, like a damsel in distress from an old horror movie. Maybe Dracula is on my trail. She giggled. What if I pretend he is? Intoxicated, she struggled to pick up her frock and shorten it so she could run the length of the steps. She glanced back as if being chased, and even let out a little cry for help. I could give Mina Harker a run for her money...and Dracula a run for some fun.

  She reached the bottom of the incline.

  Left or right? Shame Nick isn’t here with me. It’s deserted and anything could happen down here...if I took the wrong turn. She pointed left but decided on going right, stealing a candle from the wall for light. An adventure, that was what she needed. A Gothic—all be it drunk—adventure.

  What’s the worst that could happen? I get lost? The ruins aren’t that big. I’ll have a little wander around then take a taxi back to the Kilmarnock Arms Hotel and sober up.

  The ceiling height dropped with every tiny step she took, and she could no longer stretch out her arms without bumping into walls. The tight space terrified her. Heart pounding, she rounded a bend and laughed with the ridiculousness of the situation, unable to believe she had accidentally on purpose arrived at the dungeons. Thick, steel bars still enclosed two of the cells and heavy-duty iron handcuffs were chained to the walls. She crept into the first chamber and glided her finger along the iron of the torturous restraints. Imagining the pain and horrors that must have happened there, she shuddered.

  “Have ye been naughty? Do I need tae teach ye a lesson and lock ye up?” A voice penetrated the darkness around her, shattering her little game of pretend cat and mouse. She spun to see who’d followed her. Not wanting to be caught in a drunken state, she prayed it was a stranger. But in the same moment, she hoped for someone she knew who wished her no harm. No one would hear me scream for help.

  Her candle snuffed out from a breath, and not her own. The chill exhale kissed her neck and skated down her body like an icicle drip. The horror of it sent her hurtling backward. Had it not been for the wall behind her, she would have landed on her butt.

  “Who’s there? Bar dude, is that you?” She pressed herself against the cool stone bricks, too excited to be truly afraid. After all, this was what she wanted. To not know what was going to happen next, and to fully engage in life again. And the way her heart jumped and her chest pounded, she felt alive for the first time in years. “Hello?” She peered down the corridor that donned only a flicker of light from the stairway’s sconces.

  “It’s me, Dracula.” He stepped into soft, flickering light not two meters away from her, his silhouette giving away his identity. Top hat and tail coat. Definitely him. “I saw ye come down here and wondered if ye were all right. Sorry if I scared ye.” Cool as ice, he strolled toward her.

  “I’m fine. A little creeped out, though.” She fanned herself, willing her breath to slow since panting and heaving were not the sexiest of images to go with. And even though she didn’t plan on doing anything about it, she couldn’t help wanting the Count lookalike to desire her.

  “Forgive me and let me make it up tae ye.” He slipped his arms around her shoulders and pried her from the wall before pivoting her so her back lay against his chest. It happened too fast, giving her no chance to protest.

  Who does this guy think he is? She tried to will herself to fight him off then run like the wind. But her goth self—and the Dracula’s Kisses he’d mixed for her—enticed her to stay wrapped in his arms and enjoy the sense of safe-danger he seemed to offer. This was what she wanted to happen when she took the path down here, if she was honest with herself. She recalled how she’d felt him following her, and how the silly girl in her pretended to run from him. She’d beckoned this to happen. It hadn’t been a drunken, made-up game after all.

  She tried to make sense of the whys and whens until he slid his hand over her curves and toward her sex. The thin, imitation silk ruffled under his touch and slipped over her skin. He pressed his fingers taut against her clit and cupped her soft, swollen mound, caressing her. She leaned her head back, steadying her weight against him. No more thinking. Her eyes closed with the ecstasy and her muscles tensed in anticipation of release, pulling at her stomach and making her toes curl in response.

  “We shouldn’t do this. I have no idea who you are or anything, and....” Pathetic, Cathela, you are pathetic. How about you say no and move away from the hot vampire? That would help. Yes, it would.

  “And yet here ye are, moaning in delight, begging me tae continue.”

  And I have a boyfriend called...something? What was his name again?

  He swiped her hair across her shoulder and planted sweet kisses along her exposed neck. She couldn’t believe it, her fantasy had come true. While she tried to figure out what she had done to deserve such pleasure, he pierced her skin with his teeth and clutched his fingers onto her like a cat kneading. His sharp nails scratched the surface of her costume, and his embrace, intense and full of passion, scared her. She’d let it go too far.

  “I can’t do this. I’m taken.” She pushed him away, panting, gasping for air and sensibility. Nick wasn’t perfect, and was probably upstairs flirting with the witch that very minute. But they were, for all intents and purposes, still living together and in love...weren’t they?

  She moved to the corner and whimpered, drowning in her own confusion.

  “You’re cold. Here, have mah jacket.” He draped his thick coat over her and tucked her in as if she were a toddler at bedtime. “Ye should take this, too. Use it if ye ever decide this is what ye need, Cathela.” He gave her a business card.

  She accepted and gave his offering a glance. “A dating agency?”

  “Trust me, ye’ll find what ye need there...when yer ready for it. I’ll order a car tae take ye back tae the Kilmarnock Arms. Be outside in ten minutes.”

  She slipped her arms into his coat and glanced up to ask him how he knew where she was staying, but he’d disappeared.

  Chapter Two


  Alec Murray swooped across the plains of the Highlands toward the Castillo Hotel in Cruden Bay, Aberdeenshire. Back to the town where he’d come face to face with Cathela in October. He spotted the hotel through the dense fog cloaking the December night sky, and excitement coursed through his ethereal form. If there was a major vampire perk, astral travel had to be it. The act of joining air and blending into the scenery connected him to the universe in a way he hadn’t felt since joining the living dead.

  He moved through the luxury, five-star hotel as if he’d lived there his entire life. All twenty-five years of his life and four years of his...um...death. Rounding corners of restored hallways, weaving between guests clad in jumped-up golf gear, and speeding up winding stairs of magnificence, he found the suite he had booked for his one-night stand with Cathela and penetrated the wall before swooping into his physical body reclining on the bed. He hated this part of the process. He’d feel trapped for the first few seconds, consumed by a swirl of loneliness. He always bathed afterward because it helped bring full focus to his corporeal being.

  The bad feelings didn’t hit this time, his mind focused on Cathela’s imminent arrival. She wanted vamp fetish, and he’d give it to her. Full on. He intended to make this night as special for her as he suspected it would be for him. After months of watching her drown in her doldrum life, he couldn’t wait to awaken her again. She needed him as he needed her. He hadn’t come across many women who had a thing for vamps and were as beautiful as Cathela. Sure, there were plenty of goths who dreamed about creatures of the night. But, in his experience, they bottled it the second they suspected his true nature. They were happier keeping it a fantasy than discovering the reality. He had a feeling she could handle it, though. Which meant, if he played his cards right and kept the inhuman part of him hidden from sight, he could enjoy a whole night of feeding and making love instead of sipping a quick snack, wiping their memory, and disappearing into the night with an unserviced sexual appetite.

  When he’d spent time with her at the party, it had become clear to him why he felt the pull to get to know her. He had been unable to resist her sexuality and the brazen nature he brought out in her. But she had been far from ready to leave the vein of her boredom. Thankfully, his plan worked and she’d joined 1Night Stand to search for a lover who shared her lust for bloodletting.

  A thick scent of licorice and chocolate drifted up his nostrils, and the soft movement of heels pressing into lush carpeting alerted him to Cathela’s presence in the hotel. He’d smelled her blood from miles away. That’s how he’d found her when he spent a few nights in Chigwell, a somewhat upper class town of Essex, England. Her scent had lured him in and he had become obsessed with watching her, returning from his home in the Highlands to see her often. After weeks of observing, he had decided he needed to meet her. The Halloween party had turned out to be the perfect opportunity, and he couldn’t have planned it better. He’d had an inkling she would wander into the dungeons alone and welcome his embrace.

  He changed into an outfit more fitting for a dark-prince-wannabe and proceeded to prep the room for her arrival. Deep red candles filled several wrought iron candelabras that surrounded the bed and the claw-foot bath. He lit them, turned off the electric lights, and shut out the rest of the world by closing the draperies. Perfect tunes were next and he grinned at his pick. Love Song For A Vampire, by Annie Lennox. Last but not least, he placed black silk ropes and a lace blindfold across the crisp linens of the hotel bed. He wanted to immerse her in her fantasy, to bestow upon her what she’d always longed for. Perhaps then she’d not be too shocked when he bit her later in the evening.

  She rapped at the door.

  “Alec?”

  “Enter.” The lock clicked over as she used her key, the sound welcomed by his eagerness to be in her company. When the door handle eased downward, she made a breathtaking entrance, gothed up to the nines.

  “So, Alec, it is you? You are Dracula. I did hope…. Wow, you’re hot. Hotter than I remember. And your hair? It’s shorter? Did you get it cut special for tonight? For me?” Words spilled out before she even entered the room, and he battled to stop a grin from forming. A smile would expose his mouth un-fanged and that would confuse matters. His fangs only protruded when he was aroused, pumped with adrenaline, or while feeding, so it was only a matter of time before that happened around her.

  “And thanks for choosing this hotel, another piece of exciting history in Cruden Bay, what with the curse and ghostly tales. It’s good to be back in the area...this place is good for the soul.” She swept her hair back and dropped her huge overnight bag to the floor.

  “Bram Stoker visited these grounds when writing Dracula. Figured ye’d want tae stay in Ecclesgrieg House as the Castillo chain has done a wonderful job restoring it back tae its eighteenth century glory. Thought it would help set the scene. Besides, Cruden Bay is where we met so it’s the right place to indulge our fantasies. This town is where it began.” For you.

  She squealed. “How exciting, I didn’t know there were Dracula connections to this place, too. But the hair? Why’d you cut it off?”

  “I had a wig on for the ball as a part of the costume.” He was well aware of the irony—a real vampire dressing up as Dracula to attend a party in a castle thought to be the inspiration for such a story. But he’d known that’s what she liked. That’s why he’d gone to the trouble to find an authentic costume. The glasses had been the final touch and the perfect cover for his true nature.

  “I like the leather pants. And what material is your shirt made from?” She moved toward him, eyes wide with desire. “It’s very Lestat.”

  Exactly. Looks like my plan to appear “mainstream” vampire-esque like has worked. She doesn’t suspect me of being an actual vamp. But will she notice the coldness of my skin? Not many do. And if she does, how will I explain it? He didn’t have much time to consider this for she slid her hands across his chest, stroking the gossamer, black shirt he wore.

  “Yum.” She ventured beneath the shirt and over his skin, showing no obvious reaction to his temperature.

  “I had a couple of drinks in the bar downstairs because I was nervous.”

  “Was?” He grabbed her wrists and eased her hands from his chest.

  “Still am.” She bit at her lower lip and sent a pleading gaze his way. “Just a bit.” He’d had her pegged right from day one. She wanted danger, needed it. The type of peril that, almost but not quite, would take her to the place of no return. The safe kind. If she knew the truth, then perhaps she wouldn’t feel as safe as she did.

  “I’m glad ye decided tae do this, Cathela. Ye won’t regret it.”

  “Hmm, yeah. About that. Why didn’t you give me your phone number or something? This date didn’t come cheap.”

  “I wanted ye tae understand what ye were agreeing tae before meeting with ye again. 1Night Stand was the best way tae do that, so ye had time tae process mah offer and needs. Yer needs, too, Cathela. Ye knew mah expectations before we got together, so there’ll be no misunderstandings. I fully intend tae drink yer blood. Are ye still okay with this?” This was a question he always asked before going any further. And at this point, his date would usually run out on him.

  She reacted as he had hoped, with a self-assured nod.

  “And I take it Nick is out of the scene now?”

  “Yes—”Alec put his finger to her lips and lulled her into silence. He had heard all he needed to, and now needed to relax her so she could enjoy herself. She gazed at him with need, stirring animalistic desires and awakening his fangs. Now would be a good time, he figured, to set up his “fake vampire” image. He opened his mouth to draw attention his pointy canines. She couldn’t know they were real. That’s why he’d brought along the blindfold and ties, so he could control what she saw and felt. It suited both their needs since she said she wanted goth kink on her online profile.

  “Crowns. Do ye like?” He mimicked a hiss and she purred in delight, racing to feel them. She
pressed the pointed edge into the pad of her thumb and let it pierce her skin. A droplet of blood spilled on his tongue and the rich, metallic taste teased his starved soul. He wrapped his tongue around her thumb and sucked. She giggled. Her pulse had quickened, thumb thumb thumpty-thumb, and echoed down to his very depths. But the sampling had to end before the hunter in him took over and showed his true face.

  “Tasty.” He grinned. “Music?” He sought to distract her. “Music!” He directed his command at the voice activated sound system. This room had been kitted out with all the spoils of life.

  A song, one of her favorites, spilled from multiple speakers. He watched her reaction, amused that she realized the trouble he’d gone to. Her eyes widened at the present he’d laid out on the bed, and she raised a brow before racing over to investigate further.

  “Ye like?”

  “Very much so.” She peeled her purple crochet sweater off and revealed a sexy, black dress that hugged her a little too tight. He liked that. Liked the knee length patent leather boots she wore, too. And the fishnets. He had a hard on from just a quick gaze up her sexy legs that went on and on.

  “Dance with me?” She swirled to him and swung her hips in a provocative manner.

  He whipped his arm around her, spun her, and pulled her back against his chest. She leaned into him and slid her arm around his neck. Her full bottom squished against him and cradled his cock in the most delightful way.

  Taunting himself, and savoring the moment of ecstasy and acceptance, he swept her black hair to the side to expose her neck. Her heady, decadent scent seeped into his nostrils and made him high on lust. Unable to stand it any longer, he copped a handful of breast and a nipple grazed his palm in the process. How he’d like to wrap his tongue around that hard nub. The more he thought about it, the more he could feel it protruding hard against the Lycra she wore...no bra?