Chapter One

The way she kept popping that cherry-red sucker in her mouth, rolling it with her tongue, made his eyes glaze over. She hadn't even looked at him once, but he couldn't help but feel the little show she was putting on was just for him. Bouncing lightly on the boardwalk, to the rhythm of the music, she couldn't have been more than twenty years old. Maybe even younger. But her body was completely woman, from the clingy jeans all the way to her too-tight tee shirt. He cursed the jacket that kept slipping in the way, obstructing his view. And he couldn't be sure if it was make-up she was wearing or a well-placed natural blush.

Normally he was more discrete, a loner by nature and necessity. But the crowd offered cover and a chance to mingle in a way he rarely does now. And it was even rarer to focus in on one person in this way. Once in a great while did he seek out companionship. Always it was a young person. Perhaps his time was coming around again.

She shifted a bit, off beat, then stopped moving altogether as her gaze met his. Faded blue eyes, even visible in the gloom. She swallowed heavily and it was an act he found himself imitating--though not for the same reasons. It was then he noticed the accelerated beat of her pulse, rapidly pumping within her neck. Most human beings wouldn't even register the flutter, but he saw it as clearly as a hunter. She lowered the lollypop from her mouth, casting a glance over her shoulder. When she realized he was indeed watching her alone, her expression became all the more anxious.

He realized that he'd been spotted. If he had been hunting for any other reason, he would have enjoyed the unease he created in his chosen one. The scent and tang of adrenaline was as heady to him as a fine wine. But her, he did not intend to partake of, at least not in that way. Now he would have to take this slowly. He moved back into the shadows next to the boardwalk. He was a hunter. He was patient. He could wait.

As if chasing a white rabbit, she darted off through the crowd, disappearing before he could blink. The sudden emptiness where she once stood returned his senses to his fixated mind. He could smell the salt air, hear the shrieks of the crowd along with the blasting music. He could feel the chill in the air. It amazed him, the things he blocked out when so focused. The sounds of the nearby carnival were almost deafening. With a sudden shudder, he turned it off, like flipping a light switch. Everything is silence again, with one exception: the light whisper of her breathing, nearly sixty yards away.

Now what to do. That she had run away was an enticing call for him to follow. He did not want to scare her any further. He listened harder and heard her tremulous heartbeat. She was so small, so fragile, so... mortal.

Before he could take a step in her direction, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Unaccustomed to being touched in a crowd, he whirled around abruptly, stunned to see the girl standing behind him. How could she have possibly moved so fast? She looked taller up close, but even that wasn't much. The top of her head didn't even reach his shoulder. Strands of her dark hair hung loose from the ponytail behind her head, framing her face in soft curls. Her skin was blanched white from the cold, and possibly from fear, as she stared up at him with glittering blue eyes.

"Do I know you?" Her sucker was nearly forgotten, clutched one of the hands that rested on her hips. "I'd like to know why you've been staring at me."

"Is that a crime to admire a thing of beauty?" He gave her a winsome smile. "Surely I *can't* have been the first to do so." Six foot four, tawny blond and dark brown eyed, most people found him attractive and he had used his charm in the past to his advantage. But not this time, and not that way.

She stared at him open-mouthed for a moment before flushing three shades of red. And hard as she tried, she couldn't stop the hundred-watt smile from spreading across her face.

"I think you'd be surprised. Most people only spare the time to tell me I have a big mouth." Although her smile was huge, he couldn't imagine she was talking physics. She faltered for a moment, gesturing wildly with her hands as she tried to figure out what to say. "I'm sorry. Now that I've done my job and finally made an ass of myself, I think I'll leave you alone."

She turned to go, but didn't get very far before adding, "Did you really mean that?"

He sketched a shallow bow in her direction. "My dear, there are many things people have accused Anton Mikhail Rudenko of being, but insincere? Never." He watched her turn even a brighter red. He smiled warmly and offered his arm. "Allow me to make up for frightening you by escorting you back to the concert. Or would you prefer to stroll along the boardwalk?"

She tilted her head slightly, studying his face. He could clearly see a change as she came to a decision. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to skip the last few songs. It isn't as if I can't hear them just as well over there." She carefully shifted her sucker to the other hand, so as not to muss up his clothing with the sticky sweetness. "Besides, it's not as if you're going to rape me in public. Right?"

The last comment caught him off guard. Part of him was saddened by the fact that women these days had to think of such things. He could remember a much more innocent time. That, and such an air of distrust made it harder for him to do what was necessary for his survival. "No, my dear, no such intentions at all." Placing his right hand on the one that rested on his left arm, he guided her towards the lights of the Ferris Wheel. They walked in silence for a moment, the crisp night air tugging at their hair and sending shivers down her back. She fidgeted with her fingers, obviously not quite comfortable with the situation. As if unsure just where to put her hand. She distracted herself by talking.

"I don't exactly make a habit of walking away with strangers, you know. In fact, I'm hardly ever alone...jeez, that sounded kind of trampy. What I mean is, my sister-in-law was with me earlier, but she got sick and had to go back to the hotel. Not that I'm wishing she was here, or anything. Or that you weren't. God, I'm babbling--You're just so, uh, gentlemanly." She laughed slightly. "So, um, so you like listening to Garbage?"

"Yes. Their music speaks to me at so many levels." He smiled as he sang in a mellow tenor the opening lines of 'Temptation Waits.' "I'll tell you something/I am a wolf but/I like to wear sheep's clothing." He looked at the woman besides him. "Will you tell me something? What is your name? I can't continue addressing you as 'my dear' all night. Or perhaps you'd like to be called 'my goddess?''"

She snorted suddenly. "You're a trip, you know that?"

He cocked an eyebrow, watching as she stuck her sucker back in her mouth and spoke with the round bulge pressed against her cheek. "'Name's Bryn." She swirled the lollypop in her mouth for a minute before pulling it free once more. "Nice to meet you, Anton Mikhail Rudenko."

"And likewise, Bryn." They passed the Ferris Wheel and moved on towards the roller coaster. For once in a great while, he felt content, dare he say happy? He had no pressing need to feed, and a beautiful woman at his side. It had been a long time since he had indulged in human companionship.

And speaking of companions, his appeared to be shivering slightly in the cool ocean breeze. Ever the gentleman, Anton took off his leather coat and without a word placed it over her shoulders. The wind was cool against his skin, but it did not affect him.

"Th-thanks." She glanced at him, curiously. "I didn't really mean to be rude earlier. You see, I'm used to people only staring at me in pity. I come from a small town. Everybody knows my secrets there. I'm not really that mysterious, anyway."

Glancing around the crowd, she wrinkled her nose. "Is everybody in California good-looking, or is it just my imagination?" A little smirk lit up her face as she met his gaze. "I mean, you certainly aren't--lacking, in that regard. Not in the least."

Judging by the pink on her cheeks, he could tell she was not at all used to giving a man compliments...or possibly even talking to one. For some reason, he got the feeling she found the entire situation unfamiliar.

"Thank you for the compliment." He realized that this was a wounded dove on his arm. Yet another thing that attracted him. He could be fiercely protective of those he chose as companions. "So you are not from here? What brings you here? Family? The concert?" He heard strains of 'Only Happy When It Rains' floating towards them.

"Actually, it's kind of silly. I was hoping to find a gallery that would be interested in showing my work, but I didn't find any takers. I guess I'm going to be a small- town artist a little while longer." She swallowed heavily. "But it's not a totally wasted trip. I got to see one of my favorite bands. And I got to meet you."

Her smile was shaky before slowly fading. "What about you? I assume you live here...well, not on the boardwalk, obviously. Unless...jeez, I have a way of sticking my foot in my mouth. You don't live on the boardwalk, do you? Not that there's anything wrong with that! Carpe diem!"

"Ah, yes, one must seize the day." Except he could not seize the day any longer. "No, I do not live here. I guess you can say that I'm on vacation. Seeing the sights."

He backtracked to something she said earlier. "You said you were looking for someone to show your work? You are an artist? Would you show me your work sometime?"

"Well, I'd do it now, but Caroline and I are sharing a room. Somehow I don't think she'd be too excited about me bringing a stranger back to the hotel when she's trying to sleep." She shrugged apologetically. "I really wish I could, but I think we're leaving for the airport tomorrow morning. Maybe if we go to one of those hotdog stands I could paint you a picture with ketchup and mustard?"

She giggled, the sound like little bells against the stiff sea breeze.

"Or, I guess I could always send you something if you wanted to give me your address?" She looked away suddenly, lowering her eyes. "Forget I said that. You're just being nice to me and here I am pretending this actually means something. I always did have too much imagination for my own good. Maybe I should just go back to the concert now."

"If you wish, we can return to the concert." He stopped in front of her, looking into those gorgeous blue eyes. "And yes, I am being nice to you, but not the way you mean. I would love to see your work. And this can mean something, if you wish it." His voice was soft and husky. If she turned him away, he'd melt back into the shadows, leaving her unmolested. Extracting revenge for being scorned was not his way.

"Oh boy," she licked her lips, tucking a fly-away strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm not sure you should say things like that to me. You have no idea what you're getting yourself in for." Her voice lowered, barely audible over the roar of the waves and the cacophony of the crowd. "I think I could easily fall in love with someone like you."

As if hoping he didn't hear that last confession, she quickly continued onward, fast on the heels of her words. "Who are you, anyway?"

"I am what you need me to be. Friend, confidant, protector... lover." The last word is said in a quiet whisper. He reached out to touch her cheek with the back of his fingers. He wanted to badly to stoop down and kiss her, but did not feel he had permission to do so. The look of bewilderment chasing across her face astonished him. "Ah, but you've never had a chance to make that choice, have you?"

"Good God, no." She almost breathed the words. She was suddenly wound tight with nervous energy, barely able to stand still. Her hand snaked out to grasp his wrist with whip-like movement, holding his fingers still against her face. Needing to verify his touch was real. Without giving herself the chance to change her mind, she blurted out, "And what if I choose the last? Would you think any less of a woman you've just met?"

He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "No I won't think any less of you." He could smell her, so fresh, warm and alive. The rapid pulse beating in her neck was drawing him towards her. He still wanted to kiss her, but needed for her to make the first move. A glint of deviltry appeared in his eyes. "Will it help if I say I'll still respect you in the morning?"

He thought he heard the words "I am such a ho," before her hands were desperately clutching his shoulders, her feet in almost a ballerina-like pose just to reach his mouth. She didn't let the height difference slow her down in the least. She pressed her lips against his, none-too-gently, dragging him closer as she attempted to devour his mouth. She might have looked shy and resistant a moment ago, but if anyone had missed the shift in personality they would have sworn she was a different person altogether.

He crushed her to his chest. He hadn't expected her capitulation to be so complete or so sudden. Opening his mouth, he let her explore before bringing his tongue into play. She tasted like sugary cherries but underneath that she tasted young, innocent, and desirable.

When they broke apart, they both were breathing heavily. He wanted her, and he knew for certain now she wanted him. "Bryn, there's something you need to know before we take this any further." He watched the worry and fear chase across her face. "I'm... a lot older than I look."

Her features only showed confusion. "How old?" she asked.

This would most likely drive her away. But he felt all his loves and lovers deserved to know the truth before they made that final plunge. "Bryn, I am 1012 years old. I am what you call a vampire."

She let out a deep breath before allowing a huge smile to cross her face. "Is that all? Jeez, I thought you were going to tell me you're married or something!"

She grinned, totally missing the shocked look on his face as she leaned in to bite playfully at his neck. "Don't worry, I can play along." She bit a little harder, not quite yet drawing blood before she drew back to thoroughly lick the wound. With a horrid Vlad Dracula-accent, she drawled, "I vant to suck your blood!"

A moment later, she completely dissolved into giggles.

He swallowed before smiling. She didn't understand, but she would if she stayed around him longer. But he couldn't explain it to her now, not until she was willing to listen.

So instead he switched to a more potentially pleasant line of thought. He carded his fingers through her soft brown hair. "I don't want you to feel pressured, but I do have a room in the hotel across the street..." He let the sentence hang.

The smile drained away from her face, followed by a shiver that rocked her entire frame. "I've lost my mind, haven't I?"

"Not that I've noticed--"

"This is my first time...to the Pacific coast."

Her underlying meaning wasn't lost on him. Slowly lowering her back to her feet, he was about to give her an alternative choice when she casually nodded her head. "I can always check out the ocean tomorrow morning, right? Let's go...to your hotel."

"I have a west facing room. You can admire the ocean from there tonight." He traced his fingers lovingly over her cheek. "First time? My dear, I am honored. But if you aren't comfortable with anything, tell me. I firmly respect the word 'no'." He gave her a warm, reassuring smile as one arm slid around her waist. "And we don't have to head to my room right away. The ocean is not something to be missed."

She gave him a grateful, relieved smile. "Thank you."

She sank her bare feet into the sand, squishing it between her toes with relish as she glanced back over her shoulder to see him sitting on a nearby bluff. She had loosened her hair from the ponytail and it flew freely about her shoulders, dancing with the wind. He looked delighted by her freedom and returned her wide grin as the surf pounded before her. She was about to ask him to join her when a rogue wave washed foam over her feet and she gasped loudly.

"Oh my *God* that's cold!"

He laughed at the comical shock on her face. "What were you expecting, my dear?" He removed his shoes and with some difficulty rolled up his tight black jeans. He'd forgotten what it was like to see life through a mortal's eyes, vicariously living the unexpected pleasures of a new sensation. "The Atlantic is warmer, but far rougher."

"I wouldn't know...I haven't been to that ocean in years." She smiled slightly as he stepped up beside her, but she quickly lowered her gaze--all-too-interested in the foam swirling around her toes. "Would you mind if I admit I'm really scared right now?"

He glanced at her quizzically, as if it was the last thing he expected to hear.

"I'm leaving tomorrow morning, and I might never come back here." She licked her lips. "If I go upstairs with you, I'm going to fall in love with you. A whole lot. And I don't know if that's such a good idea, considering. I won't want to say goodbye."

"Bryn, that is something I face every time I choose to make friends with a mortal." He knew that she'd think he was only playing his assumed role of vampire, but he couldn't hold the words back. "It isn't easy, opening to someone who can be taken from you in the blink of an eye." He stroked her jaw line with a fingertip. "But life is about taking chances. Sometimes we choose wisely, sometimes we don't. I can't make that decision for you."

He stepped back and smiled. "Besides, who said it has to be 'goodbye?' Why not 'see you soon?' And who says you have to return, or that I cannot go with you?"

"Ha!" The smile returned to her face. "Don't tempt me, or you'll never get rid of me." Before he could respond, she turned to him and kissed him again, almost desperately, and he could feel her shaking as she leaned against him. After a moment she pulled back and stared at him with wet eyes, tracing his mouth with her fingertip. Although tears threatened to fall, it wasn't sadness that prompted them. Rather, acceptance, and maybe a little relief. "I guess if you'd make a suggestion like that, you really do want to be with me. Not just sex. Not that I thought that's what you meant. Oh boy...can we go now? I'm freezing."

He nodded, placing his arm around her. Pulling her close, he guided her back up the beach to the boardwalk, and then out the main gate. The concert was now over and most of the crowd was intent on finding their cars. They threaded their way among the people and safely crossed the street.

As they neared the hotel, he noticed her steps were becoming a bit hesitant. "Remember what I said, my dear. Anything you're not comfortable with, you don't have to do." But his heart would break if she turned away from him now.

"Don't worry, Anton, I'm just nervous." As they drew close to the front door, he paused to hold the door for her graciously. The lobby of the hotel was lovely, open and spacious, and the patrons took little notice of them. Still, it felt like everyone's eyes were on her as they climbed the main set of stairs. Finding his room, he delved into his pocket to find the key and noticed her looking a bit sheepish. "I don't have anything...you know, protective-wise..."

"That's taken care of."

"You've come prepared? Uh, no pun intended." She blushed bright red once again, giggling slightly. "I'm not exactly sure how to respond to that. Should I be flattered, or afraid?"

"Relax. It's not what you think, I assure you."

Opening the door, he flipped on the light switch and allowed her to pass. The first thing she saw upon entering was her own reflection in the glass. She wrinkled her nose a bit before stepping closer and noticing the impressive view before her.

"Oh, wow. This place is amazing."

"It bloody well should be. I'm paying enough for it." He closed the door and walked over to the wet bar. "Would you care for a drink, my dear?"

She looked away from the balcony for a moment. "I thought vampires only drank blood. And weren't capable of sex."

He chuckled softly at her response as he poured two glasses of champagne. "You've been reading Anne Rice, haven't you? Advocacy, my dear, doesn't always equate to accuracy." He walked over and handed her the flute. "I can live with or without eating or drinking, but blood is a necessity for me to survive. I will cease to exist without it. And it will have no place in our relationship." He did not drink from his lovers, even when it was willingly offered. "And as to the second, I am more than capable, I assure you."

She quirked an eyebrow, mischievously. "No place, huh? Pity. Sounded like it could be fun."

She lifted the glass to her lips and downed the champagne in one gulp, hiding a little unladylike burp behind her hand as she set the flute down. She didn't even glance at him as she pulled his coat from her shoulders and laid it on the back of a chair. She kicked her sandals off as well, looking with slight trepidation at the enormous bed. With a deeply pulled in breath she sat down on the comforter and bounced lightly on the surface.

"So..." She finally met his gaze. "I-I'm ready when you are."

He put his glass on the table beside the bed. "Are you certain, my dear Bryn?" He could see the fear lurking in her blue eyes as he settled on the bed beside her. One arm went around her slim shoulders, his lips near to her left ear. "Tonight is about our shared pleasure, my dear." His tongue snaked out to trace its shape, swirling around the pearl stud earring. "Your pleasure, as much as mine." He softly nipped and pulled at the lobe until she was gasping. "I respect 'no,' my dear, but I also highly respect 'yes.'" Again his tongue snaked out, this time to explore the soft flesh of where her jaw met her the column of her neck. "Tell me what you want, what you need, and I will give it to you."

Turning her head to face his with a gentle pressure, he couldn't help but smile when he took in the flush on her cheeks and the sparkle in her half lidded eyes. "So what do you want, Bryn?"

"Your mouth."

It was obvious as she moved to straddle his lap, she was not used to having so much control...and she relished every moment of it. Somehow his compliance had finally sunk in, giving her a heady rush, making her movements the very opposite of hesitance. She settled down in his lap, purposefully rolling her hips against him as she grabbed his face and claimed his lips as her own. She kissed him like she owned him, pressing herself tight against his body, tasting her power. Whimpering slightly with every little shift against the taut bulge in his jeans.

His arms came around her slim body. One hand slid up to tangle into her long hair; the other glided down to cup her ass, pressing her tighter against him. Mouth open, he allowed her full access. He almost lost control when her tongue slid over his teeth to stroke the roof of his mouth.

When the kiss broke he was breathing heavily. He hadn't expected to be so turned on by a simple kiss. He promised her control, and it was going to be damn tricky for him to keep his promise.

Her pupils were dilated as she studied his face. She grinned at what she saw there, reaching down grab the hem of her tee shirt. She quickly pulled the tight fabric over her head, dropping it to the floor. Her chest was heaving as she reached back to unhook the lacy bra. She shrugged free from the restraint, sliding it out of the way, watching his expression change as he stared at her naked breasts. They'd never been what she would consider beautiful. Too big, too heavy, always in the way. But as she watched his face, she couldn't help but arch her back and thrust them forward.

"So, what do *you* want, Anton?"

He barely registered the words before he was attacking her breasts with lips, tongue and fingers. He rolled her nipples before cupping one breast and suckling on the other. One hand slid to support her as she arched forward into his touch. Her breasts were so lush, so... perfect.

He looked up, satisfied with his work. Her eyes were closed, her mouth hanging open, and her breath had slight moan to it. "Bryn?" He waited until she opened those luminous blue eyes. "I think I'm overdressed," he murmured with a lascivious smile.

"Ohhhh, my God...you're amazing" The shudder that shook through her was powerful enough to feel, all the way down to his toes. She was barely able to focus as she pushed him back to the mattress, quickly attacking the buttons on his black shirt. Her hair fell over him like a curtain, and she smiled as he pushed it aside to watch her face. Shoving the cotton shirt to the side, she leaned forward to kiss the flesh she was exposing, first his neck, then collarbone, finally swirling lightly around his tight nipples. Her breasts brushed against him with every movement, dragging over his stomach, until she sat up once more. Her hand rubbed firmly against the bulge in his jeans before she popped open the top button and met his gaze. "Keep going?"

"Please..." he moaned. He hadn't expected the tables to be turned so completely. He had always prided himself on his self-control, but he had been reduced to a whimpering wreck by a simple touch. He couldn't remember the last time he was this hard. He thrust upwards, trying to increase the sensation of contact.

Her grin was damned near feral as she slid off his lap and knelt on the floor between his legs. She made short work of unzipping his jeans, tugging them down his thighs. She stared at the tent in his black silk boxers, glad he couldn't quite see her expression. It was the first time she'd truly been scared since entering his hotel room.

[My God, he's going to kill me...]

She swallowed heavily, pulling back a modicum of courage as she leaned forward and wet the dark silk with her mouth...pulling him inside so suddenly that he yelped out loud. But she wasn't satisfied, not nearly, and it was only moments before she was shoving that soaked material out of the way.

He moaned as she swallowed him again. His hands dug into the sheets in an attempt to keep from moving. Her tongue swirled around his glans, tracing the prominent vein. It was clear that this is the first time she'd done this, but damn, she was a fast learner. In fact maybe too fast...

"Bryn... stop... please..." he managed to gasp out. He bit back a moan at the loss of contact as she sat up to look at him. He smiled reassuringly at the confused look in her eyes. "If you keep that up, this will be over a lot sooner than both of us want."

"Oh." She blushed attractively. "And I thought I wouldn't be any good at this."

She was sitting on her heels, squirming in little circles with her hips, obviously more turned on than she was willing to admit.

"Come here," he said, carefully sitting up as she climbed to her feet before him. She thrust her hips forward as he began unbuttoning her blue jeans. Her toes curled against the carpet and she pushed her fingers through his hair in an attempt to keep from fidgeting. Just as he'd exposed her already wet panties, she said softly, "I want you on top of me. All the way. Please?"

"Yes, Bryn. Oh God, yes." He hooked his fingers into her panties, stripping them away at the same time as her jeans. His eyes went wide as he took in all of her naked body. "Glorious," he whispered. Standing up and helping her step out of her puddled clothing, he pulled her against him, relishing the feel of her body against his. Peppering her hairline with feather soft kisses, he whispered, "Lay down on your back in the center of the bed."

She did so with a slight hesitation. "Anton, what are you doing?" she asked as he climbed on the bed and settled with his chest between her legs.

He flashed her a wicked grin. "My dear, have you ever heard the saying that turnabout is fair play?" Sensual and deliberate, he ran the tip of his tongue over his lips as he spread her legs wider and leaned in to get his first taste of her.

"I wish you wouldn't..." She barely got the words out before they choked behind a cry that came from her toes. Her legs shook violently before curling around him and pressing him even harder against her with her heels. "Oh--never mind..."

She thought she heard a muffled laugh come from his direction but she was too far gone to care. Her fingers fluttered over his hair before tangling in the silky tresses and scraping gently over his scalp. She arched her back, pressing herself more firmly against him, forgetting why the hell she protested in the first place. Whatever he was doing, she could feel it everywhere at once. A tingling, burning, glittering, undulating sensation, sending wave upon wave on pleasure through her body. She moaned helplessly, feeling herself become wetter still, her face heating, a scream trapped in her throat.

"Oh...oh, I love you..."

He chuckled again. "Ah Bryn, my dear, you don't know what you're saying." One last loving lick, and he scrambled up her body, kissing his way back to her face. He paused to nuzzle her breasts, allowing his erection to rest on her thigh. He pushed the hair out of her eyes, and smiled gently. "This may be a bit... ah... uncomfortable at first." He kissed her eyes and lips. "Let me know if it becomes too much."

She captured his mouth, sucking lightly at his lips as she reached down with both hands to guide his hard cock into place. Her stare held his, her eyes widening slightly as she lifted her hips to his downward thrust. She whimpered slightly, but didn't allow him to stop, pushing hard with her palms against his ass. After a slight moment of discomfort, he slid smoothly into place and she locked her legs around his hips.

"Don't move, not yet," she whispered.

He could feel her inner muscles pulling at him, squeezing, and it threatened to end this much too soon. Especially when he felt her start to shudder beneath him, quivering as she clung to his shoulders, loud cries escaping from her lips as she rode the waves into orgasm. Her hips rocked, damned near pushing him up into the air with the force of her body beneath him. It was a few moments before she was able to release her vice-like grip on him and allow him to move.

He held still for another moment or two, trying to maintain his control. Nipping at her neck, he slowly began to thrust. "Oh, Bryn," he whispered into her hair. "You feel so wonderful. So hot and slick." He picked up his pace, reaching down to stroke her as well. "Come for me again, Bryn." When she began shuddering beneath him for a second time, he let go and came with a roar.

Her breath was moving hard and fast past his ear as he settled down against her, still buzzing with electricity. It was several minutes before either of them stopped shaking completely. She pressed her face against his neck, wrapping both arms tightly around his back. Her legs relaxed only slightly around him, allowing him to slip his hand out. With a heavy sigh he laid almost boneless atop of her, assured that she could still breathe as he did so. After a moment he could feel her leisurely stroking his hair, breathing in the scent of him as she nuzzled the soft skin beneath his ear. He felt her smile against his cheek.

"Is it always this good?" She paused for a moment, adding, "Can we do it again?"

He laughed. "Give me a chance to recover." He smiled down at her. "Enjoyed yourself, didn't you, my dear?" He shifted off to his side, cradling her close. He stroked her side gently, nuzzling her cheek.

She rolled her eyes, slowly sitting up. "You couldn't tell?"

Murmuring something about the mess they'd made, she climbed off the bed and got to her feet.

"Where are you going?"

"I wanted to see the o--" She stopped abruptly, feeling moisture trickle down the inside of her leg. She'd known she was wet, but she had no idea she was this-- She gasped, her eyes flying to his. "Anton, we didn't use any protection!"

He started to reply but she wasn't listening. Hurrying into the nearby bathroom, she grabbed a wash cloth off the rack and violently twisted the knob on the faucet. She was wetting the fabric, her hands shaking, as he entered the room.

"Bryn, Bryn, I am sorry." He came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "It will be okay."

She rounded on him, eyes blazing. "Yeah, it will be okay for you. You go back to your life while I go back home wondering if I'm pregnant or what the hell you've given me!"

"Bryn, I tried to explain to you earlier," he soothed. "I can't get you pregnant. I can't give you an STD."

"Don't give me that vampire shit, Anton! It was a romantic line on the beach, but this is serious."

He heaved a deep sigh. "It's not a line, Bryn. Let me prove it to you." Reaching into the traveling kit on the sink, he pulled out an old fashioned straight razor. "Can't abide those modern disposable razors," he mumbled. "Watch closely, Bryn." Without flinching, he drew the honed edge across his wrist.

"Are you crazy?" she screamed as blood welled out of the cut.

"Bryn! Watch!" Grabbing one of the towels off the rack, he wiped away the blood from the already healed wound.

"So you can do a neat parlor trick. What the hell's your point?" Ignoring him, she turned around and briskly rubbed soap into the washcloth still clutched in her hand. She barely even showed any embarrassment as she propped her foot up on the closed toilet lid and started washing between her legs. "You're playing around with fake blood and toy razor...meanwhile, I have semen running down my leg thanks to you!"

She sucked in a shuddering breath, glaring at him in the mirror as her raw nerve endings protested the bathing. "I can barely manage to watch my brother's kids, let alone worry about one of my own."

He was starting to lose his temper. He could feel his canines sharpening, his eyes starting to glow. He tried to return to normal, but then decided no. Let her see. Maybe then she'd understand. "Bryn, look at me," he said in a low voice.

"What do you want now?" She impatiently turned around to face him and the moment she did, the washcloth fell to the floor at his feet. She scrambled to back away from him, hitting the pedestal sink so hard his razor clattered to the floor. Still moving, her eyes wide with fear, she backed even further away, pushing herself into the corner of the room, putting her hands up between them. "D-Don't hurt me..."

The sight of her face, so blatantly horrified and fearful, is enough to break his heart. He closed his eyes until he felt his fangs dull. "I'm sorry, Bryn. I didn't mean to scare... I won't hurt..." For his one thousand years of experience, he was at a loss for what to do. He had forgotten that the belief in vampires is not as prevalent as it once was.

He backed out of the room. Gathered up his clothes and began dressing. "Stay as long as you need, Bryn. You have nothing to fear from me. I'll leave shortly."

It felt like several minutes before she could move her legs enough to walk. She moved a few shaky steps, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, trying to be inconspicuous as she watched him. He looked defeated, broken, and she wonders how she could have done that to him. Just moments ago, he was larger than life...and she was scared to death of him. And yet, moments before that she'd been writhing below him in one of the most amazing experiences of her entire life. And it shocked the hell of her, standing there, to realize that she wanted that again.

"This is your hotel room."

He didn't reply, as he sat down to tie his shoes. He didn't even look at her. And she felt like shit. Lower than that even.

"Anton, I'm sorry...don't go. Please." Her voice lowered to a pathetic whisper. "I didn't mean it."

He looked up at her words. "Are you sure?" She nodded, shivering where she stood. He grabbed a blanket off the bed and walked towards her. "You'll catch your death of a cold, my dear." He held out his hand, offering.

She didn't take what was offered to her. Instead, she headed straight for him and wrapped her arms around his waist instead. Murmuring over and over again, "I didn't mean it." Nuzzling her face against his chest as he wrapped the blanket around her, quite bewildered. He could feel how desperately she was clinging to him, unwilling to let go, in complete opposition to the frightened girl who'd stared at him in the bathroom.

She tightened her arms around him, pressing her face against him, unwilling to let him see her cry. Somehow he'd stripped her defenses along with her clothing, and she wasn't sure she'd ever be the same again.

"Shhh..." he whispered. "It's okay, Bryn. It's okay. It's my fault. I should have made sure you understood what I was before we made love." And for him, that was what they had done. He didn't fall in love often, but when it happened, it was fast and complete. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to the bed and placed her gently on it. "Don't cry, my dear. It's okay."

She would't let him go. Even as he released her onto the bed, she pulled him back to her, willing to fight if that was what it took. Luckily, he complied willingly. She buried her face against his shirt, soaking the collar, choking slightly as she tried to hold back the sobs. After a while, she finally managed to calm down enough to look at his face. What she saw there made her drift into shaky smile.

"You look like you again." She reached up to touch him, gently pushing aside his lip with her thumb, staring at his teeth. With the pad of her finger, she touched the end of his upper canine. "They're aren't even that sharp anymore. How did you do that?"

He moved his mouth away from her touch. "It's a gift, or a curse, depending on your point of view. It only happens when I'm about to feed. Or when I'm angry. Or when I'm afraid. Like just then."

She tilted her head, clearly confused. "Afraid?"

He sighed. "Bryn, I don't do this often. Take a lover, I mean. Maybe only once every one hundred years. And I saw you standing in the bathroom, angry at me, and I thought that I had lost you before I had the chance to truly cherish you." He tucked an errant strand of hair back behind her ear. "I truly meant it when I said that this can mean something, if you let it."

"My God, you really are over a thousand years old, aren't you?" At his nod, she smiled slightly. Pushing him onto his back, she shrugged the blanket away from herself and moved to straddle his waist. She placed her hands against his chest, carefully maneuvering, sitting gently right in front of his groin. "If I promise not to get scared, will you do it again?"

"I told you--"

"I know, you have to be angry or scared...or about to feed?" He started to protest, and she placed her finger over his mouth. "I want to see you."

He couldn't deny her this. But she didn't understand completely what she was asking him to do. He drained his victims to death, not merely sip and let them live. That is why he promised himself he would never feed on his lovers, even if he were starving. He started to make one last protest. "Bryn, it's danger--"

She shushed him again, stroking her finger over his lips. "Anton, please."

He nodded, taking her head in one of his hands. Focused on the rapid pulse beating in her neck. Felt his eyes flame and his teeth sharpen. He couldn't look at her, see her reaction. All he could see is the pulse in her neck.

She swallowed heavily, mesmerized by the sight before her. This wasn't some hokey Hollywood vampire, dripping fake blood off his porcelain fangs. It wasn't Tom Cruise with ugly yellow contacts. It was Anton, looking at her like he wanted to devour her and he was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. His eyes shone, iridescent and glowing, and his teeth looked about as a lethal as a loaded pistol. And still, the power restrained there took her breath away.

"You're gorgeous."

He heard her say something, but the words didn't register. All that mattered was the red fluid he could almost smell coursing through her veins. With infinite care, he drew her closer, selecting a spot...

Cobra quick, he sank his fangs into her neck. He heard her gasp of pain but he could do nothing but drink. Her blood tasted of the sugary candy she was enjoying, the champagne they'd shared earlier, as well as the endorphins released by their lovemaking. It was a heady and seductive mixture.

Abruptly he withdrew his fangs, but stayed to lick at the blood oozing from the puncture marks on her neck. Waited until they stopped and then licked the blood from his teeth, not willing to waste a single drop. He sat back, waiting for her reaction.

She wobbled, woozy, before bracing her hand on the bed beside him. Her eyes didn't focus for a minute or two, and he became afraid he took this too far. Then her gaze centered on his mouth, and a little smirk curved her lips.

"When do I get my juice and cookie?" Her hand reached up to touch the spot where he drank, surprised that she didn't feel any sticky liquid pouring down her neck. "I feel like I just donated to the blood bank...through my jugular."

He smiled. Her reaction was better than he hoped for. "I didn't take much. I didn't intend to take any. You were just so irresistible..." He pulled her tight against his chest. "Don't ever ask me to do that again, Bryn. It's too dangerous. I don't think I could live with myself if I accidentally killed or Transformed you."

Her smile faded as she hid her face from view, and she had to remind herself that he'd never transformed anyone before. He didn't intend on having a permanent lover, or he would have given himself one by now. And she knew she'd be leaving first thing in the morning. She'd most likely never see him again, despite the promises he made. He didn't have room for a *human* in his life, and if she was honest with herself she knew she didn't have any room for him either.

She let a breath out of her tight chest, once again lightly touching her neck. This one souvenir was all she was ever going to get.

Crawling off of him, she pulled the blanket over them both and curled up at his side. Whether from the blood drained from her body, or the sudden realization that this was over, all she wanted to do now is sleep. Maybe she'd get lucky and find out it was all a dream, anyway.

Absently, he stroked her hair, wondering what the hell to do next. If this had been 400 years ago, he would have merely swept her into his saddle and ridden for his castle, leaving her family and friends to assume that she had encountered something nasty in the forest. Which may not have been that far from the truth. But he couldn't do that any longer, or at least not without her consent. She had a family and a life, one that could never fully mesh with his. Perhaps she wouldn't even want to.

All his lovers, while having begged him to feed on them at one point or another, never asked him to Transform them. She was the first one he had broken his no feeding promise to himself for, and it scared him to think of what else he'd be willing to do if she asked. Perhaps even go as far as making her his for all time.

He glanced at the curtain to make sure it was securely shut. He could be in a room with no harmful effects, but direct sunlight burned him. He looked down at her, so peaceful next to him. As much as he hated to do so he gave her a light shake. "Bryn? Wake up my dear. We need to make some decisions before sunrise."

She moaned, burying her face even deeper against the pillow, squeezing her eyes shut. It was very hard to pretend he wasn't there with his lovely voice sounding in her ear. After a while, his hand continuously stroking her arm, she blinked one eye open to look at him. He smiled gently at her, and she wanted to hit him with her pillow. Why couldn't he just be a jerk like every other guy she'd ever met? If he had, it would've been so much easier for her to walk away. Which was exactly what she intended to do. One way or another.

"What kind of decisions?"

 

"Where we go from here. How we make this work. *If* we make this work." He continued stroking her arm. He was starting to feel tired. But he didn't want to let her go without trying to convince her to stay.

She exhaled heavily, sitting up to glance at the clock. It was early still, but definitely morning. "I think we should stop pretending, Anton."

"Pretending?"

"What happened to your other lovers? Did you leave them before or after they became too old to keep up with you?" She ignored the hurt look on his face, trying her damnedest to ignore the ache in her chest as well. "Did they have to start introducing you as their grandson to keep suspicions at bay? Or did you just move on to greener pastures?"

She climbed off the bed, looking around for her clothing to avoid looking at his face. "I sure as hell know you didn't stay with them forever, or you wouldn't be here with me."

"No, Bryn, but it's not like that. Two left me. Five of them died of old age. OneÖ was taken from me." He closed his eyes. No, he didn't want to bring *her* into the conversation.

"My point exactly," Bryn said. "None of them are with you."

"None of them *allowed* me to Transform them into vampires, Bryn." He slid off the bed and paced towards her. "They wanted to remain human, and I respected their wishes."

"Yeah, well I don't want to be an old woman sitting around with her thirty- something lover. I don't want to have to explain that to people. If I'm going to love someone, I want to *be* with them...whether that means growing old together or not. I certainly don't want to have to think about him going off to someone else when I--" She let the sentence hang, gesturing with her hand. She slipped on her underwear and bra, preparing for the ultimate attack. She hated herself for it before she even said it. "Is that where you're getting all this money, Anton? From little old ladies' wills?"

He snorted in derision. "A few well made investments is all it takes. Do you have any idea how much interest can be made on a 100 year old account?" His smile fell when she didn't laugh at his joke. "What do you want me to say, Bryn? I can't change what I am."

She lowered her eyes. "I don't know what I want you to say. I'm not sure there's anything you can say." She reached for her jeans, holding them against herself like a shield as she stood up. "Despite what I said earlier, I will want a family some day...and that's something you can never give me. I know I'm being cruel in pointing that out, and I don't want to hurt you. But I can't deny who I am anymore than you can."

Her words caught painfully in her throat, drawing his attention as she squeezed her eyes shut. "I do love you, Anton, despite what you think...but this hurts too much already. I can't even imagine what it would be like a few years down the road."

"I won't lie, Bryn. It's not an easy life." He reached out and caught her hand in his, thumb stroking back and forth. "But I do love you too. As far as a family, we can work something out." He hated the pleading tone that crept into his voice, but he couldn't screen it out. "Please, Bryn, give me... us that chance."

She swallowed heavily before pulling the hand holding hers closer, and gently pressing her lips against his wrist...exactly where he'd drawn his blade earlier that night. She could see by the look on his face that he finally understood. She wasn't willing to give in.

"I can't. What would we do, adopt children? And then what? They grow up and ask me why their father never ages?" She shook her head, her eyes infinitely sad. "How could you possibly stand watching all of us die? And why would you ever want to put yourself through that--for me?"

"Because I love you, Bryn." He stepped closer to place a chaste kiss on her forehead. "It rips my heart out to love a mortal, watch her grow old and pass out of my life while I never change. But miss that chance? No. The rewards are too great." He stepped back and released her hand. "It has to be your choice, Bryn." He looked at her solemnly, but his breaking heart was showing in his eyes.

Her face crumpled, tears leaking out of her clenched eyelids, but she didn't say a word as she hurriedly finished dressing. Pulling her tee shirt over her head, she winced slightly and rubbed the bruising wound on her neck.

Her words were barely a breath out of her mouth as she said, "I'll need your address if you still want me to send you something."

He was silent, his movements minimal as he scrawled the words across hotel stationery and handed it to her...keeping her hand in his grasp longer than necessary.

In the end, she was the one who pulled away and hastily headed for the door. She barely paused to say "I'm sorry," before closing the door behind her and disappearing.

The heavy package came in the mail almost a month later, wrapped in a well- padded envelope, addressed with messy but undoubtedly feminine handwriting. He ripped it open hastily, pulling out the unframed stretched canvas. He shook the envelope slightly, but to his disappointment there was no attached note or letter. There wasn't even a return address.

A sudden sadness surrounded him as he pulled away the bubble wrap and stared at the exquisite painting. He recognized himself immediately, the only spot of pure black on the canvas. He was depicted in silhouette, facing the sea, his back to the painter's eyes. He stood before a dark sky, spotted with brilliant stars and a pearlescent moon, but the sky itself was a swirling mass of blues, purple, and red. The rolling waves of the sea shimmered in green and gray. The sand of the beach was untouched, save two sets of footprints...his own, and a pair that stopped abruptly just before the sea. He was alone. His companion had simply disappeared. In the corner, in pure white, was the signature, Sabryn Jaegar.

He'd never wanted to cry more in his life. Setting the painting down gently on his bed, he stared at the envelope in his hand. The only clue he had to her whereabouts was the smudged post mark on the plain brown paper.

Westminster, MD.

End Chapter One