0 comments/ 15084 views/ 1 favorites Blood Ties By: kidthor The room stood deathly still. There was a handful of scratches as a key was fumbled into a lock and the door swung violently open. Cold, clear fluorescent light spilled into the room cutting an angular swatch of light across the floor. Dancing silhouettes snaked across the patch of light and swept into the room with a chorus of raucous, drunken laughter. The couple embraced in the center of the room with exploring hands and hurried breaths. She pulled away as he tried to kiss her. The woman lazily swung the door shut. The room was again dark as she wandered into the kitchen. She opened the fridge, and a halo of stale yellow light attached to her. Her voice echoed off the pristine white walls of the appliance. “Sabastien? Do you want a beer, or some wine?” “No Tina,” he replied in a thick accent. “I don’t drink much…alcohol.” She grabbed a bottle of wine. It was near empty, and it’s rich red contents sloshed around as she tried to pour it in a slender wineglass. The glass tumbled and shattered on the kitchen floor. She stooped to pick up the wet, red shards and one slipped into the tip of her finger. “Ouch! Shit!” “Here let me help.” Sabastien’s slippery voice startled her and she spun around. He was standing right behind her. She didn’t hear him follow her into the kitchen. She started to shiver, but when he looked into her eyes, she lost herself. They were positively stygian, but in a sensual way. They penetrated her defenses. His eyes had intrigued her the moment she saw him. Her best friend Celia’s annual Halloween party had become quite infamous for lack of potential men, but she went anyway. Who could resist the temptation to get all dressed up and act like someone else for a night. She decided to go all out this year. There may not be many men there, but there was no reason she couldn’t dress to impress. She wore a long, black, flowing skirt, a black, leather corset, and black lace up boots. Her porcelain shoulders and cleavage stood out in sharp contrast to the corset. She added a healthy dose of deep crimson lipstick, and darkened her eyes. Fiery locks framed her face. She eyed herself in the mirror and whistled. Celia’s boring insurance agent friends would be blown away for sure. Tina threw on a long black hooded coat and cursed herself for nearly forgetting the final touch. A pair of white plastic fangs. She was the life of the party just as she expected…until Sabastien walked in. He wore a tailored, double-breasted black suit with a read silk shirt beneath it. The man was wearing sunglasses inside and way after dark. He was bald and his smooth head and angular jaw line gave him a mysterious quality. It was not until he removed his sunglasses, though, did Tina become drawn to him. His eyes seemed to penetrate her to her very soul. She was sure he could read her mind, and if he could, she should be ashamed. He was the most stunning man she had ever seen. She was not the type to approach a man out of the blue, but she had to talk to him. When she stood before him she smiled, and felt immediately embarrassed when she remembered the fake fangs. Then he smiled back, and to her amazement, revealed his own set of wickedly curved fangs. They spent all night talking at the party and then shared a cab afterwards. When they got to her place, she invited him up. Now, he stood next to her in the kitchen, carefully inspecting the small shard of glass protruding from her trembling finger. His graceful fingers closed around the shard. She recoiled slightly at his cool touch, but his hands were surprisingly strong. “Be still Tina. This won’t hurt.” His voice was so soothing, and warm. Her heartbeat slowed and she just stared into his piercing eyes. In a flash, the shard was plucked from her finger, and discarded into the sink. A trickle of blood ran from the wound and he gently took her finger into his mouth. Protest died on her lips as he gently sucked at her stinging finger. Within seconds the pain was gone. She pulled her hand away. There was no more blood. No more pain. She couldn’t even see where the glass had been. She looked suspiciously at him. He smiled widely at her. “It was a small wound, Tina. Maybe you’re a quick healer, huh?” His smile drew her in and she looked away embarrassed. “I think I drank too much,” she laughed. Soon they were sitting on the couch. Tina was sipping on a steamy cup of coffee, lost in the subtle voice and hypnotic eyes of Sabastien. Throughout the conversation, they had been drawing ever closer. Now their faces were just inches apart. His eyes spoke to her. She wanted to kiss him, to feel the brush of his lips against hers. What did he taste like? She was entranced by the beauty of this man. She could her heartbeat, steady and quick, but it almost sounded as if she was hearing it in slow motion. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she resisted her urges, but his gripping voice and his arresting eyes forced reason from her mind. They kissed, lips softly brushing together. His hands had been cool but his lips were warm. They tasted of exotic spices with the tiniest coppery hint. The kiss grew in intensity. Their bodies pressed closer together. She could feel his muscles coiled beneath his suit. She felt intensely warm then. Her porcelain skin was flushed. Her blood felt like liquid magma in her veins. Her tongue parted his lips and began to explore his mouth. It ran over the tips of his fangs and then she realized…they were real. She pulled back suddenly and tried to concentrate through her fervent haze. He watched her calmly as she stumbled for words. “What are you Sabastein? Is that even your name?” A sinking feeling tugged at her even as she tried to look away from his viselike eyes. “No Tina. That is not my real name, though it is what I call myself. My real name is much older and probably unpronounceable to you, and you know what I am. You have from the beginning on some level. I made it no secret. I do not try and hide my nature.” “Your nature?” she questioned. “Sebastien, do you kill people?” His laughter boomed throughout the dark room. He smiled wickedly, curved fangs catching the moonlight from the window. “Tina, I am no killer. I feed…on blood…and passion, but I do not kill. Life is precious for one such as me. Warmth is precious. I can show you.” Her eyes narrowed to slits as she eyed him suspiciously. His arms encircled her then and his lips were at her neck. She tried half-heartedly to pull away, but she could not deny her passion for him, even now. His lips trailed fire up and down her neck. She was bathed in desire. His touch inflamed her. “Tina…?” “Yes,” she breathed. “This will hurt…And you will love it.” She felt the tips of his fangs slide over the pliant flesh of her neck till they were positioned above her jugular. They broke her skin. She drew in a sharp breath as an agonizing surge wracked her body. She could feel her heart stop and then seem to beat in reverse. Her perception blurred and time became fluid, swirling about her. She could sense her lifeblood flooding out, Sabastein hungrily lapping up every drop. A wave of orgasmic pleasure washed over her. Her body convulsed in his embrace and she cried out, her skin ablaze with wanton desire. The blackness took her and she went limp in his embrace. Tina forced her eyes open. She drew in a stale breath. Her mouth was dry and coppery tasting. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the half-light. She was in her bedroom, sprawled across her bed. Her drapes were closed tight, but a dull, fading light snaked its way around their corners. The crimson display on her clock read six seventeen. Dawn? No, the light was not right. Sunset. Suddenly the events of the previous night invaded her thoughts. She couldn’t remember when she had passed out, and she had no idea how she slept an entire day away. All she could remember was Sabastien. She sighed as his face seeped into her memory. She was filled with a sudden longing for him. His voice resonated in her mind. She could almost feel his hands moving slowly across her body, trailing sparks of passion across her skin. She was growing flushed and she began to sweat. She fumbled at the corset now wanting it off her body. Her skirt soon followed. Now naked, she still could not forestall her rising temperature. Her skin was tingling everyplace he had touched her, like a carnal memory. She began to run her hands over her body, but they only fueled the fire inside her. She breathed heavily, his memory and her own touch awakening a wanton hunger inside her. She arched her back and moaned loudly as her fingers pinched at her insistent nipples, inflaming them with the same red-hot passion that was consuming her body. Her hand slid along her stomach and over her smooth pubis, sending fiery currents of lust through her veins. Her sex pulsed with raw desire as her fingers worked in and out, her breaths coming quick and between moans. The room seemed to swirl around her in a red haze. She remembered Sabastien, his fangs at her throat, the intense, near orgasmic pain when he bit her and his soothing voice and intense eyes. Always the voice and eyes. Her body was wrecked with pleasure now as she came, pumping like the molten blood in her veins. “Oh Sabastien,” she cried, a heaving mass of primal need. She lay there gasping, her skin a sheen of sweat, the beads trembling in the small tremors of her orgasmic aftershocks. Still, she was aflame with an indescribable hunger. Her insatiable desire burst from her unchecked now. “Damn you Sabastein! What did you do to me? Come back. Do it again. God, I’m begging you. I need you to do it again.” Her cries broke down into heaving sobs as she writhed on the bed, a creature of pure want. When again she had some semblance of control, she rose and went to the window. She was still burning up, worse than any fever she could recall. She ripped at the curtains and the rod came away from the wall, bringing little bits of plaster with it. The sun was just peaking below the horizon now, and the mercurial sliver of daylight fire pierced her eyes. It blinded, yet she could not help but watch it go. She stood at the window, naked, observing the street below. It was rather deserted for this time of night. Never much traffic here. A couple moved slowly, across the street, all longing eyes and clutching hands. She heard a rhythmic throbbing in her head, at first nearly imperceptible. Perhaps the stereo in a distant car. The lovers play became more heated. They kissed unabashed at the night’s eyes. The throbbing became more urgent, closer somehow. She realized with a start what it was. She could hear their heartbeats. She sped from the window and into the bathroom down the hall, her own heart racing. The harsh fluorescent flooded the room, and warily, she looked in the mirror. Almost convinced that she would not see her reflection, she gave a half-hearted laugh when she did. Her skin was completely flushed, her hair sweat soaked and matted. Suddenly, her hand went to her neck, and hastily she angled the mirror, hands shaking. She let out a deep sigh of relief, when she saw her neck was unmarred. “God Damn it. Did I dream everything?” She splashed herself with cold water. The clear liquid chipped away at the crimson fog playing on her sanity. She returned to her bedroom and clicked on the bedside lamp. She gathered her skirt and corset from the floor and tossed them on the bed. She still could not wrap her mind completely around Sabastien and last night’s happenings. Her eye caught the phone on the bedside table, and she sprang to it, fingers hastily fumbling over the buttons. She breathed heavily, waiting the eternity between rings. “Hello?” “Celia?” “Hey Sweetie! How are you? Where did you run of to last night? “We came back to my place.” “We?” “Yeah Celia. Sebastien and I” “Who Sweetie?” Tina felt her head begin to swirl again. She rubbed at the redness in her eyes. “You know Celia…Sabastien. Tall, dark and gorgeous. I met him last night, at your party.” “You did? I don’t recall anyone matching that description. I would remember that. I didn’t invite him that’s for sure. Maybe somebody brought him. You know, I was wondering where…” “Sorry Celia…Gotta go.” Tina clicked the button and absentmindedly threw the phone aside. She was seriously starting to doubt her sanity. “Jesus. Somebody slipped something in my drink. I dreamed the whole thing. No wonder I feel so wired today.” She reached for her phone again when a tiny drop of dried blood on her corset caught her attention. “Hello Tina.” Her heart nearly seized in her chest. Sebastien stood at the foot of her bed. Immediately her scalding desire rose. She sat, unashamed of her nudity before him on the bed, unrelenting passion welling inside her. He was dressed the same as the evening before. The suit was wrinkle free, and the red silk shirt shone like ruby hued beacon in the weak lamplight. His eyes bore down on her, taking in her bare form yet never leaving her eyes. “Are you a dream?” She asked. “No.” “Celia doesn’t know you does she?” “No Tina. She doesn’t. No one from the party does. Nor will they remember me. It’s the way I want it. It makes things…easier.” He was closer now, yet she was sure he hadn’t moved. His face was inches from hers. She surrendered herself to his eyes and let her need take over. “Whatever you did to me, you have to do it again. Please…I’m begging you. I’m dying here.” “No Tina. You won’t die tonight. Maybe ever.” His graceful hand cradled her head as he spoke, her crimson locks spilling through his fingers. His voice reverberated though her head. “Please,” she begged. “No Tina. Tonight is different.” He held out a slender hand and she accepted. His touch reignited the insistent fire in her. Sebastien led her to the closet door and turned her so her back was against it. He produced a long, red silk scarf from his pocket and tied one end in a bulky knot. He reached behind her and turned the doorknob. He slid the knot over the top of the door and then closed it, pulling on the scarf to make sure it was secure. He was inches in front of her, dark eyes bearing down on her. Without a word, he grasped her hands and raised her arms above her head. Soon the silk of the scarf was secure around her wrists. As he was tying her, his head moved close. She bared her neck for him, but he just smiled wickedly at her. Her entire body was practically on fire, burning with his closeness. He placed a gentle kiss on her neck, his lips like a brand on her flesh. She whimpered at his touch. He turned away from her and removed his jacket. He folded it neatly and placed it on the chair in the corner. She watched as his shoulders stretched taut beneath the silk fabric of his shirt. Her passion was evident in her moist inner thighs. She moaned softly as he began to unbutton his shirt. The shirt slid from his shoulders, revealing a perfectly sculpted back and he placed it atop the folded jacket. His back still towards her, he unbuttoned his pants and slid them off. He was now completely naked. He was built like a cheetah. His muscles were corded and lean. When he bent to place his hands on the chair, she could see the muscles in his thigh contract and harden. He turned and faced her. His beauty intoxicated her. His penis stood erect and he began to stroke himself as he watched her reaction. She sighed loudly. The indescribable hunger that had been haunting her all night now had a face and a name. Sebastien. “Please,” she breathed. “Take me. Feed on me. Oh God please!” “I said no, Tina. Not tonight. Tonight you feed on me.” He ran a sharp fingernail over his wrist and a trail of blood welled up in its wake. At the sight of his blood her whole body tensed. She could smell it. See the microfine particles that scattered in the air when his skin broke. She wanted nothing more than to taste his essence. He walked close and brought his wrist close to her mouth. “It’s quite potent, my blood. But I think you know that already. There are many souls in there. There is even some of you.” She strained at the scarf, but to no avail. His wrist was just out of reach. He touched the crimson flow with a fingertip and offered it to her. “Just a touch at first.” She took his bloodied fingertip into her moth and tasted his coppery essence. It lit her tongue on fire. The taste was like a thousand sweet kisses at once. She sucked his finger clean and whined when he withdrew it. “Now Tina, I think you will enjoy this.” He slid his tongue along his wrist. She gazed longingly as the blood and the wound disappeared. He moved close, his body pressing against hers. She could feel his member, that exquisite blood flowing to it, as it pressed against her thigh. His tongue touched her lower lip and she quivered as the fire shot through her once again. Then his lips pressed against hers and she could feel the surge of his essence in her mouth, as his tongue explored. Her nipples rubbed along his chest and his manhood pressed more urgently against her. He pulled his lips from hers and began a fiery trail of kisses down her neck and shoulders. He ran his tongue along the length of her collarbone. She cried out as his molten essence traced along her willing flesh. His tongue was on her nipples then, and tiny shockwaves of crimson pleasure echoed through her body. His warm fingers began to rub her inner thighs. She moaned as the came ever closer to her impatient sex. Slick with her own juices, he slid a long finger inside her and pressed his the palm of his hand over her clitoris. She moaned loudly then as she ground her hips into his probing hand. The room was filled with the sounds of her pleasure now. She whimpered in anticipation as his tongue continued down across her stomach towards her wanting sex. Kneeling before her, he pulled her leg over his shoulder and slowly began to run his flaming tongue over her inner thighs, tasting of her pleasure. She cried out when he licked along the length of her sex sending red-hot carnal surges through her entire body. She ground her pelvis into his face and burrowed her head in the crook of her arm. He lifter her other leg now and held her effortlessly, suspended between his burrowing mouth and the scarf stretched tight above her head. Her moans intensified. She was dripping with sweat, the molten passion inside her taking its toll. Her back arched driving her wetness into his hungry mouth as she came, loosing a flood of desire. She was spent, trembling with orgasmic abandon, kneeling in front of the closet door, the scarf pulling at her weakened arms. Sebastien stood before her, his member rigid with anticipation. He quickly untied Tina’s wrists and gathered her limp form up in his arms. “Oh my god. So good. Feels so good…” Her voice trailed of as her head rested on Sebastien’s shoulder. He laid her gently on the bed, his eyes trailing over her naked form. She was sweat-soaked and trembling. Nearly passed out. Once again he slit his wrist and a rivulet of his crimson essence seeped down his arm. He held his arm above her, his blood slowly welling and forming droplets. They fell almost as if in slow motion, landing with a patter on her lips. His blood was sweet fire on her lips. Her tongue flicked at her lips to catch every last drop. She clutched wantonly at his arm and began to drink from his opened wrist. His ruby life pumped into her. She could feel it in her stomach, then soaking into her veins and arteries. She could feel the blood liven every single capillary in her body, infusing her with fiery passion. “Tina, you must stop now.” He tried to pull his arm away and she griped it ferociously. Finally he wrestled his arm away from her, and stood by the bedside, as she lay there, whimpering. “I want more,” she sobbed. “I need it.” Blood Ties She was dreaming again. She knew because she'd never be willingly manacled in some dungeon-like room, left in the dark. She knew because she'd never willingly stand naked, awaiting some man's pleasure. She'd had this dream before, many times. She wasn't sure who he was. He came cloaked in shadow and shrouded in mystery. She didn't recognize that soft, deep voice that rubbed like velvet up and down her spine. She didn't recognize those hands that slid like silk lovingly across her naked flesh. She didn't recognize the submissiveness in herself, this shadow-side that only came out in her deepest, darkest fantasies. She moaned aloud. The soft sound echoed throughout the blackness. She couldn't see, strained to hear. Would he come for her soon, or would he leave her to hang by herself? She was stretched to her full height, arms overhead, braced on her tip-toes. The floor was rough and cold beneath her feet. There was a slight, cool breeze that played across soft flesh. She shivered, and, at least in her mind, she could admit that she wasn't sure whether it was the air, or anticipation. She'd never known a more attentive lover than this dream. He seduced her with caresses, with her own helplessness. It seemed that was part of the attraction, wasn't it, the inability to protest, to move away. After all, how could one resist giving into those dark desires if the choice was taken away? Ah, there, footsteps, she was certain. She froze, straining to hear. They came inexorably closer, softly breathing across the rough-hewn floor. She remained motionless. A caress of breath came, across the delicate flesh of her nape, stirring the hairs to life. She shivered. A warm, velvet tongue stroked behind one ear. She gasped. A sultry voice purred in her ear. "I've missed you, my sweet." She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. It was the same every time, and her body grew warm with anticipation, her sex growing moist with response. Even as she tried to see behind her, a silken blindfold shrouded her eyes. "Just in case," he murmured. Another scrap of silk was caressed over smooth shoulders, eliciting a sigh. She gave herself up to sensation. It was pointless to fight a dream, wasn't it? The silk brushed lower, over full breasts. She could feel her nipples tighten, seeming to reach out for the elusive cloth. The silk dipped even lower, draping over the slight mound of her abdomen, ends trailing along her thighs and, when she twitched, between her legs. She pushed her body forward, trying to catch the cloth, to draw it along her body, but it was pulled abruptly back. She let out a sob at the loss, A moment later, she could feel the silk caressing her back, spanning her hips, down her buttocks, through her legs, only to begin again when she began to whimper. It seemed this play went on for hours, yet she knew better than to demand more. The first time she'd tried, she was left dangling there in her prison for hours before she awoke, aching with need. She was on the verge of crying out, begging, when velvet lips began to trace the silk's path, warm caresses in the wake of cold. The sensations ran rampant through her, the contrast a shock to her system. She whimpered again, and she could feel his chuckle against her skin. Warm tongue darted out to taste her, teasingly caressing one nipple, only to draw away again. This time she did cry out, torn between drawing away and pushing toward those maddening touches. Her body was on fire by the time his hands began trailing across her flesh, seeking, massaging, toying with her. As his mouth worked across her breasts, his hands moved lower, massaging her lower back, digging into her hips, slipping between the cleft of her rear until she was squirming with need, with desire. A voice called out in myriad tones of "please," and it was her own. She pushed against those hands, so warm, as one reached to touch her inner thighs. She was moving against her chains, head tipped back. She could feel the liquid of her desire beginning to drip down the insides of her legs. His hand teased her, pushing slightly inside of her, but not nearly enough. She strained her arms, trying frantically to impale herself on him. Those deft fingers retreated, and she whimpered at the loss. She couldn't hear him, couldn't feel him. She had no idea where his hands, his breath, his mouth would be next, and it was a delicious kind of expectation. She felt his lips moving across her belly, and she gasped. His tongue darted out to toy with her belly button, pushing in and out with a seductive rhythm. She was so hot, and she couldn't breathe for wanting. The room itself seemed an inferno, with the devil himself playing merciless games with her needy flesh. His tongue dipped lower, sliding seductively across the indent of her hip, then slowly – oh, so slowly – drawing inward to caress her inner thighs. His breath ran across her until she was shaking with more need than she'd ever known. She could feel that tongue dancing snake-like across sensitive skin, probing her swollen folds. She almost screamed when he finally flicked the tip across her clit before sliding down her cleft. She spread her legs as wide as she was able, pushing against him. He was driving her mad with his undulating tongue. Teeth were drawn across her receptive flesh, and she did scream, then, a breathless yell. Teeth tugged, pulled, while velvety lips surrounded her nub, drawing it into his mouth in a smooth, sucking motion. She was moaning, hoarse sounds she didn't even recognize. He pulled away too soon, much too soon. She sobbed and writhed, searching. She shrieked when a sudden coldness began to drip down her neck. Ice. He was drawing ice down her body, tormenting. She bit her lip hard, while crying breaths forced their way out of her throat. The ice was moving lower, dripping down over-heated skin. She fought against her bonds. The conflicting sensations were too much on her too-sensitive body. The ice was pushed lower, down her crack, into her cleft. She screamed as he pushed the ice inside of her. She could barely feel the warm press of his naked chest against her back as the ice began to drip down her thighs. She squirmed, trying to rid herself of the anguishing bit of ice, but his fingers returned, keeping it pushed inside of her. She shivered as his fingers began their dance of push and retreat, each time moving the ice further inside of her. She could feel his other hand slide around in front, up to caress her stomach, her breasts, her face. He murmured nonsensical words into her ear, flicking his tongue across her lobes. She couldn't concentrate on what he was saying. Her body didn't know whether to fixate on the feel of the ice, his body or his hands. He moved his torso across her back, and she could feel the pebbles of his nipples across her skin. He moved both of his hands, climbing up her body, up her outstretched arms. The ice didn't seem so cold now, as her body tightened in anticipation. Moving her head restlessly to give his mouth greater access to her neck. He bit down, savagely, just as he thrust into her from behind. His hoarse cry was drowned out by one of her own. The shock of pain mixed with the pleasure until they were intertwined in a sexual rhapsody. His hands returned to her breasts before grasping her hips and drawing her against him with short, hard motions. Each time he retreated, leaving just his tip inside her, she wanted to cry. His mouth returned to the wetness she could feel dripping down her neck. He sucked at her neck even as he pushed into her willing body again. She couldn't breathe; she wanted too much. He took her mercilessly, fucking her as ruthlessly as she needed, as she desired. One hand shifted to her slit, rubbing at her clit as she tried to simultaneously push against his hand and his hips. He pushed her cruelly, until she was mewing animalistically with desire. She could feel the tingling begin, that blessed warmth that spread throughout her being, those forerunners that heralded the beginning of sweet release. She came violently, her body arching like a bow in neverending spasms sped on by the tightening of his own body moments before he found his own release in her yielding body. She was crying now, in great gulping gasps. Tears dripped down her face to mingle with the sweat. Her neck was burning, her body limp as his tongue returned once more to her throat and upward. He moved around her, licking the sweat, the tears, from her neck and face before brushing one single kiss across her mouth. "Until next time, pet," he breathed into her pliant mouth. Her body missed his as he shifted, leaving her shivering against the drafts of the room. She faintly heard the manacles being unlocked, then she was falling into darkness, never seeming to reach the floor. She started awake, gasping in the darkened air of her bedroom. One hand clasped against her chest, as if she could quiet her beating heart. She breathed out in one long sigh and rubbed her temples. It had happened again. Her body felt well-used, sore. She could still feel the wetness between her legs, and she felt stretched, as if she really had been fucked. "That was one hell of a dream…." It had never gone so far before. He'd never actually taken her before, just left her wanting, needing in a way she'd never felt. She rose stiffly to her feet and padded barefoot to the bathroom. One hand reached out to flick on the lights, even as the other shielded her sensitive eyes against the harsh glare. She turned the faucet on full cold and bent to dash the welcome coldness against her flushed features. She was going to have to see a doctor if this kept up, maybe get some drugs so she could sleep. She swallowed handfuls of the cool liquid before turning the water off and resting her face against the cool porcelain basin. With a sigh, she straightened, staring at her too-pale visage in the mirror. Tangled honey hair was matted against her delicate face, and she pushed at it impatiently with one slender hand, rubbing against the burning on her neck. That had never happened before, either. It had always faded upon wakening. Her hand came away bloody. Pale green eyes widened as she leaned closer, frantically pushing hair away until she could see. There, lying in stark contrast to pale skin were two glistening red holes, still bleeding, spreading down her skin in rivulets of crimson. She was certainly shocked, but she wasn't that naïve. She knew exactly what it meant, and it was definitely going to make her job a hell of a lot harder. Damn. Blood Ties Blood Ties Jarrod could only nod mutely, as he tried hard to remember what happened before he passed out. "I was reporting this in when there was another anonymous call saying that the murderer of Paul Garret could be found here. Of course, this was a little bit too neat to bite, and so I didn't. Which means until I get some answers from you, I'm not going to say I found anything or anyone here. Remember when we're younger, and I told you about my bump-of-trouble? This is one of those times when it's screaming to me that something is not right. Well, Jarrod?" "I don't know much to tell you anything substantial Andy. I was at Garret's place last night. You do know that he hired me? Well, last night I was there to amend his will. The rough draft was supposed to be formalized today and passed to Garret's head lawyer, Mr. Fryer. Well, I came in this morning and found my office like the wreck that you see now. Before I'd go further, someone knocked me unconscious, and now, here I'm talking to you. I didn't see who it was cause he was wearing a mask." "And no one else saw or heard anything?" Jarrod shrugged and added, "Shouldn't you be the one finding that out?" "Oh yeah... And you're all alone in your apartment the whole night? Can anyone collaborate on that?" "Yeah, I was alone, as you should know well. You're the one who forced me out my moping after my huge first breakup. I thought it would work when you introduced me to your 3-times-removed cousin. It turned out that we're way too incompatible. I like music and she likes musicians. Besides, your cousin was the one who finally dumped me. Yeah, I was alone the whole of last night. Strike Two!... I saw the newspaper article this morning about Garret's death, and rushed to the office." "Well, first off, your hometown girlfriend is just a plain idiot. Secondly, cousin Ginny is mighty fine girl, from a good Christian family, and I was hoping that she would take fancy to a lawyer..." "A rich lawyer, yes. But a country-church-mouse poor lawyer, no..." "Hahaha! Have you ever thought that your standards a tad high?" spoken with a wink. "What do you think that was taken? Obviously this whole place has been searched rather thoroughly. These people wanted me to find something. Me meaning the police. They took the pains to make sure that police found you here, and of course, made sure that I found the letter opener with blood stains on it, with probably your fingerprints as well, in this office right on your desk. Even an idiot can see that this is setup." "Are you so sure that I didn't do the deed? I mean..." "Look Jarrod, you ain't too smart with women. Even with two strikes, you're not out because you've unlimited hits. Anyway, I know you're too smart to be caught even if you did do the deed. You're always smarter than I am. I know for damn sure that you're not going to leave anything lying here easy to find for the police, anything that might implicate you. I know you remember? So anything that can help me help you?" "I don't know. I'm not sure. I don't have that many cases, and it looks like I'm not going to anytime soon. Otherwise I would be living the same size apartment as you, and like you, have my own car. Instead I'm still taking the subway and walking to work everyday. It could have something to do with Mr. Garret." "Well, the funeral is today. It looks like old man Garret isn't going to be much of a help." "Wow, that is fast. I mean the body isn't that cold yet, and he's already being buried." "Well, it is, considering that Colin Garret is now the emperor of a vast empire. And considering that he has friends in high places like he does. Yeah, you're right. The funeral proceeding is a little fast. One might say, hastily done to close the case as soon as possible. It might bear looking into. But lets get back to you and your office." "Let me search around a bit..." There was a whole lot to go through. Probably what would help Jarrod at this point was a fire, to wipe out everything and give him a clean slate. He knew that he had to do the cleanup himself because he could not afford to hire a cleanup crew. If not a fire, a tornado would do the job equally well. Even an open window during a hurricane would not hurt. Obviously the intruders were not too interested in his other cases. Almost all of his files were either torn or crumpled. Not surprisingly, Jarrod found that his briefcase containing Garret's will was missing. He did not even think about the 1000 dollars hidden in one of his law books on the way to his desk. The desk had a locked drawer where he kept Garret's personal information file. He knew before he actually saw it that the file folder was gone as well. He was hoping that it was still there, but he had expected the worse. He silently cursed himself for not buying a safe sooner. He was only 200 dollars short of the 1200 that he needed. Jarrod's expectations now turned to proving his innocence, when all of the evidence pointed to him. He remembered using that letter opener as a ruler, so that was a given that the only fingerprints on it were his. He surmised that it would not be difficult to put some of Paul Garret's blood on it. "Andy, Paul Garret's file is gone, including the draft that I made last night. All my previous files on him are gone as well. If I do a more thorough search, I'm sure that everything remotely connected to Garret is gone as well. It will take a little bit of time, but that's the main thing..." "Somehow that doesn't surprise me at all. So what am I going to do with you?" "I don't know... Sigh! Like they say, I'm truly ass invaded aren't I?" He only nodded. There was a long pause. "Let me go, Andy." There was a quick surprised look on Andy's face, followed by a questioning crease of the brow. He knew that he did not expect Jarrod to ask him to do that. Then again, he knew he surprised himself as well. This was, by all accounts, a setup, for Jarrod to take the fall for Paul Garret's murder. And it was up to Jarrod to clear himself of all the wrongdoings. The main reason was that the Commissioner of Police and the Chief Justice were good friends of Paul Garret, golfing buddies. All the cards were stacked up against Jarrod. There was not a helluva lot that Andy could do against his boss. "Andy, let me go. At least give me some time to clear my name. I know that this is asking a lot, a helluva lot. But it's my entire life on the line here. Your Captain and the Chief Justice would surely believe the evidence instead of me. But you've said yourself, that this is a setup..." "And what do you plan to do? I hope that you've a plan..." "I do... Where are you going next? Back to the station?" Jarrod lied easily. A lawyer who could not lie was not a good lawyer. He had absolutely no idea where to go, or who to turn to. "OK, buddy. You've 24 hours. Then I expect you to turn yourself in. Don't make me go chasing after you. I'm assigned to this case, although it won't be hard to change that. I think I'll go look at the crime scene. Maybe I can find something to help you. Remember, don't make me go chasing after you." "You've my word on it. And you know that my word is always good. Thanks. I'll never be able to repay you for this." "Well, you could always ask Ginny to go out again. To get my mother and aunt off my back. I'm really tired of Ginny this and Ginny that." "I'll keep Ginny in mind once all of this has been cleared up. I'll give you a call later to tell you where I'm and where I'm going. No need for you to look for me. See you later. And thanks again..." "See you later. Good luck and be careful." Jarrod was stumped as to how to proceed. True that his life had been dull with the same old routine day in, day out. But this was not the kind of excitement that he was looking for. Thank goodness it was Andy who found him, and not some cop or detective out to make a name or had a sense of perverted justice. This case might not be high profile, but it goes up high enough to make it important. Like Andy said, everything was so neat and tidy in implicating Jarrod with the murder. The planted murder weapon, the call to the police, everything. Was he that an easy victim? He had always wondered why Mr. Garret picked him, when there were a plethora of higher priced and more experienced lawyers to choose from. He was relatively unknown and inexperienced. Jarrod regretted that he never got the courage to ask Paul Garret why he was chosen. He was not getting anywhere daydreaming. There might be one person who could give him a clue as to where and how to proceed in resolving his dilemma. But first thing that he did was to get some food in stomach. Jarrod headed for his regular haunt, where the coffee was free flowing and the hash browns dripped with grease. By the third cup of coffee, Jarrod was awake enough to make the phone call. "Hello, Mike. It's me, Jarrod... Yeah, I'm all right. Right as rain, as they might say... That was quick. I figured it would be at least tomorrow morning before the radio announced it. I hope you don't believe I did it?... Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mike... Yeah. Yeah. Mom should be worried, but I'm doing something about it. Anyway, that's why I called. I need a favor, Mike... Do you remember Charlie 'Twinkle Little' Star?... I need to know where he is... Pier 31? Got it. Thanks Mike. And tell mom not to worry. I've things under control... I don't know how, but I'm going to clear my name. And tell Mom that I love her. Thanks again, Mike. Bye." Click! That turned out to be easy. Jarrod was not brave enough to directly call his mother. But he knew he could count on Mike, a family friend who fancied his mother. He did not even know his real father. So he had always considered Mike to be the surrogate father. Mike was the one who brought Jarrod to all those Yankee games. Jarrod had plenty of coins, and a few dollar bills. His stash of cash was still wedged up against the law book. It surprised him to see that. He had a hard time figuring out what kind of person who would not take a thousand dollars. The assailant or assailants must have seen it, cause some of the bills' corners were sticking out. Jarrod knew that he should be thinking about getting a good lawyer for his trial, instead of being at this diner gulping down coffee by the pots and having a huge breakfast. He next dialed for Andy, hopefully that he would have some news or information for him to work on. He got through almost immediately to Andy's personal car phone, a luxury that he had only seen once before in Garret's limousine. Jarrod dared not use the normal police channels. "Hey Andy, it's me Jarrod." "Jarrod got some news that you might want to know about. Commissioner Jones has just put out a warrant of arrest for you. And I got assigned immediately to the case. So my presence here at Garret's place is justified." "Yeah, Mike told me that he heard it over the radio. That's to be expected, I guess. Anything new?" "Glad you caught me while I was at the car getting something. Anyway, the murder seems like any other murder. Lots of blood on the chair and floor. Can't find the murder weapon though. From the blood trails, he did not die immediately, but tried to crawl to his desk to call for help. All the gold items have been accounted for, and the safe has not been broken into. Even the gold inlaid, leather-bound copy of Sherlock Holmes is still on the table beside his chair. So this rules out robbery. The guys are still dusting the entire place down for prints. No prizes for guessing that a lot will be yours when they get through." "Anything else?" "Well, I'm still looking, but I doubt it. It's a pretty straightforward case. Your prints and presence here last night would be enough for the DA. Commissioner Jones wants this case wrapped up by tomorrow. Everything is still neat and tidy." "I was afraid of that. What about the two bodyguards?" "What bodyguards? Garret had no bodyguards as far as we can tell." "Well, there were two other men in that manor the same time I was there. I did not see any servants. The two big guys, who look like Mob enforcers, were the ones who brought me to the manor. They can testify that Garret was still alive when they drove me home." "Hmmm... I'll look into that. All the servants, except Paul's butler and the butler's pregnant daughter, had the entire day and night off. All had alibis. I'll look for the two guys you mentioned." "I didn't see any butler or a pregnant woman when I was there." "The butler is probably about sixty years old. The thirty year old daughter is about six months pregnant. They said Paul let them go home after serving some tea. The diner where these two had dinner later on back up the alibis." "Oh yeah. I had tea and cakes in the study. Guessed someone must have served them." "That's what I figured. How are you doing on your end?" "Nothing much right now. Going to see an old friend later this evening. He's a lot of connections, so he might be able to tell me something. I'll be down at Pier 31. That's where he has a yacht... I hope that you can find those two guys who can collaborate my story. Otherwise I'm screwed." "Pretty much, buddy. How far have you gone in your search?... Oh yeah! There was a scrap of paper with a few words on it. 'Garlic Toner, Idle Boots.' The old man was clenching it when he died. It's in the evidence bag given to me by one of my officers. Know what it means?" "Garlic Toner? Idle Boots? No, not a clue. Probably something that he was going to buy later on. The manor has a funky smell. I assume it's because of all those stuff that rich, reclusive old men buys." "Hang on buddy... Well, I'll be damned. There is actually something called Garlic Toner. It smells like garlic. I'm holding a bottle of it right now. One of my officers just found it in the old man's bedroom. Who would have thought the old man was such vain. 'Idle' is probably a European brand of boots. Well, it seems like this is a shopping list. Anyway, make haste buddy. Time is running out. There is only so much that I can do to cover for you." "I will. Thanks Andy." Click! Time was running out. There was nothing else to do but wait and have lots more coffee and hash brown. Blood Ties "Please Miss Keese, call me Colin. My friends do, and I hope that you'll consider me as such." "Colin it is then. And I'd prefer that you call me Sandra. Miss Keese makes me feel old." Sandra coiled her arms around Colin's as they both boarded the yacht. His cologne and aftershave was not overpowering, quite unlike her previous boyfriend. Sandra quickly erased the past from her mind as yacht got unmoored and underway. It was not healthy, both physically and financially, to dwell on what might have been or should be. She was determined to enjoy what she hoped would be the start a grand new life. One that would not have the words 'poverty' or 'dead-end' in it. She smiled at the loss of love. Love can feed the heart and soul, but her belly remained empty, and her apartment remained small, cold and leaked when it rained. The cockroaches were her companions when her boyfriend was not around. Former boyfriend, she corrected herself. She wanted more than what she had with him. More than what his love alone could provide. More than the dead-end life of a mother with 3 kids in a 3 bedrooms house if and when he could finally afford it. Too long a time for her to wait. "A penny for your thoughts. By the look on your face you seem to be not enjoying the party." "Oh, sorry Mr. Garret... I mean Colin. I was just thinking about some old stuff. Ancient history." "Well, don't think about it overlong as the food is getting cold, and so too are the company." "I'm not much of a party person Colin." "It's alright. Neither am I." Colin lied easily. "Things that are past should stay in the past. It's not healthy to dwell on it." His eyes light up as much as his smile. He could see that she was not overly concerned about not meeting any of his friends. Then he formulated a plan quickly. There would be enough opportunities and plenty of time to socialize later. Grabbing a bottle of champagne and two glasses, he said to Sandra, "Come with me..." Colin led her through the decks and up to the more private fly bridge. It was larger than she had imagined. The expensive rosewood table was intimate enough for a private dinner. But the vast expanse of soft Connolly leather more than made up for small table. The seat seemed to suck them both in, as they got comfortable. The windshield prevented the worst of the biting wind from intruding into their private space. The champagne was hardly touched as both silently reveled in each other's company. "Yes. I'm sorry about being such a grouse. I don't have much experience in such types of parties." "Don't be sorry Sandra. Besides, this is a small intimate party with friends. No one will even notice, or even care. Don't worry about it. I'm not. I'm quite content to spend the time here with you." "Do you consider me a friend?" "Of course, Sandra. Moreover, whoever doesn't want to wants you as a friend is an idiot." He was a smooth talker, that was for sure. Sandra smiled and snuggled against his body. "It wasn't always like that. I can remember the time when I felt chained. Sometimes I wonder if I'm such a bad person." "You? Nah. Not likely. I sometimes feel the same way as well. Everyone knows me as a Garret. Including you, and don't deny it either. What I want is to be Colin. Hahaha! Even the name Colin is taken up by Colin Senior, my father. I can tell that you're not a bad person. Hehehe!" "Thank you for the compliment Colin. You're not such a bad person either. Wish that my ex-boyfriend would have the same understanding." She was a smooth talker as well, Colin thought. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, in part to shield her from the wind. "Well... That's one thing that I can help you with. It is to make him understand. Hahaha!" "Hehehe! I may take you up on your offer, Colin." She smiled her most winsome smile. The air was cool, but Sandra could only feel the trembling heat of her body pressing against Colin's when he wrapped his arms around her. She had not expected him to be so forward. This was not the way a gentleman would have acted, she kept telling herself. Her old boyfriend would never have made such a bold public display of affection. But when he closed in on her and smelled her lovely hair, all her arguments about gentlemanly behavior faded. When his hot breath and wet lips touched her neck, she shuddered. Her body betrayed her needs. Colin could feel her initial resistance vanishing before his touch. Her hair felt wonderfully silky. He took the chance to tuck back the stray wisp of hair that fell over her eye. Her neck was smooth, inviting his predatory lips to pounce. The hair on her neck stood up when he kissed her, but she leaned back on him further. When he boldly cupped her breasts, she felt her entire body going through an electrical shock. The thin cotton material of her dress failed to hide her arousal. He took that as a signal to worm his way around the fabric to tweak at the bare nipples. She tried to steady her breathing, but failed miserably. Instead she ground her hips against his. Through the skirt, she could feel his incessant hardness pressing against her. As he played with her nipples, she felt his twitches coming through the dividing fabrics. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. Her hands snaked back to uncouple him from his cotton prison. It took a bit of fumbling but eventually she was pleased to find her efforts had not been in vain as the throbbing cock pressed against her back. With a thumb she spread the first droplets around, running the long nail along the slit down to the vee underside. She giggled when he jerked hard. He released one of his hands to feel the smoothness of her stomach. His impatience came through when he cupped her mound. Even through two layers of clothing, he could feel her heat emanating out. His palms rubbing back and forth elicit small growls of pleasure form her lips. The indentations on the cloth guided his movements. She surprised him by lifting her skirt up to allow him unlimited access to her treasure. Pulling aside the panties, he rubbed her engorged and moist nub in concert with her grinding of her back and hands on his aching cock. She gasped loudly when he stuck his index finger in while continuing to rub her clitoris with his thumb. She heard his cry of pleasurable pain when she squeezed his inflamed head. She tried to match his movements but found it impossible to. "Please..." He groaned and withdrew just when she was so close. "Please..." This time more urgent than the last. Then he put his arms underneath her legs and lifted her up. She grabbed hold of his hardness and twirled the head around and along her wet folds. She was trying to torture him but ended up torturing herself instead. Slowly inch-by-inch, he reached her depths. Their combined moisture helped along the way. She cried out when the initial penetration hurt, but soon the cries were of wanton lust. He felt her hot depths mold to his shape. It was nearly enough for him to end. "Please..." This time he was the one pleading. The boat rose and fell with the waves. The two were rolled and tumbled in unison with the boat. He cupped the mound, rubbing his fingers on the hard and sensitive nub. She in turn had one hand rubbing her free nipple while the other cupped and massaged the base of the stem. The seas were still relatively calm, but the storm that these were brewing was boiling over. "Ungh..." Like the tide, he felt his essence rising from his depths to the tip. Like the waves crashing against the rocks, his cum splashed deep inside her. The only sounds that both heard were the slow recovery of breathing as the storm subsided. Only then they both fell the chill of the night on their skins. A soft drizzle was starting, steaming off their warm bodies. She wanted to be in this post-coital position forever. He may not have the comparable equipment as her former lover did, but he did bring her close to orgasm. The night was still young, and Colin would recover fast. That was all she cared about. "We'll catch a cold if we stay up here any longer. Besides I think I can find something warmer and more comfortable than these seats." "Mmmm..." Colin lifted her up into his arms. She was not light but he was strong. The steep ladder presented a problem, but her nuzzling of his chin and neck made him surmount that problem easily. He did not care for some of the sly glances at his limp member hanging out of his zipper or for her trussed up look. Her womanly smells was intoxicating, and everyone else was jealous that he already had the post coitus smells on him. The bow suite was a much smaller than the main suite amidships. But it had it own head, which Sandra quickly made use of. The warm water felt good on her body. She though about clenching her thighs to keep his cum from dribbling out. But then wickedly, she thought about the number of times tonight that he would have the opportunity to fill her again. "So, did you have fun with that whore?" "Damn, Evelyn! You scared the shit out of me." "Oh, I scare the shit out of you. While she scared the semen out of you." Evelyn snickered while standing at the door. "Jealousy? Coming from you? That's indeed laughable. Besides, this is a ship, out at sea, so seamen will be aplenty, my dear jealous Evelyn. Hahaha! Hahaha!" "Fuck you Colin..." "Oh I thought you already did... Now be a good girl and go entertain our guests... I've some seamen problems to attend to. You may catch some yourself if you're of mind... Hahaha!" Colin locked the suite door, and quickly undressed. The night was still young as he got into the shower with Sandra. "Mind if I take care of some semen problems?" "What seaman problem?" "Here, I'll show you..." Blood Ties “Look at me Tina.” She opened her eyes. He stood before her, still naked and aroused. The vision ignited her hunger again. Her hands ran over her body, wantonly caressing her breasts. She felt his blood inside her, flowing through her. Arousing her more. She licked at her coppery tasting lips. Sebastien began once again to stroke his member, and she parted her legs, exposing her dripping sex to him. “Fuck me, Sebastien. Please…” Her body surrendered to his weight as he lay on top of her, his chiseled form in sharp contrast to her tender, pliant body. He kissed her hungrily, as he guided his manhood to her sex. She moaned as he pressed against her, and then slowly entered her. He filled her completely. In her mind, her heart, her dripping sex, and her veins. He clasped his hands in hers and, holding her with his hypnotizing eyes, he quickened his pace. His lips left a fiery trail over her neck and shoulders. She moaned loudly, as he penetrated deep inside her. Their skin burned red with desire. Sebastien gave a primal groan. His body tensed and she could feel his seed, almost as hot as his blood, flow deep inside her. His essence took her then. His blood. His seed coursing through her body, sending her into the throes of utopian pleasure. She came, screaming his name. “Sebastien!” For the second time that night, she nearly lost consciousness, lost in the molten passion he brought her. They lay silently in each other’s arms, trembling and spent. They spent the night locked together, suckling at each other’s wrists. When at last they rose, Tina gasped as she saw the dawn threatening to break through the window and her drapes useless on the floor. She could already feel the blackness overtaking her. Sebastien just smiled at her. “You’ll have to get that fixed.” He grabbed her, his touch calming her, and pulled her into the closet with him. She slept the daylight hours away in Sebastien’s embrace, with the soothing sound of their commingled blood coursing through their veins.