Heroes, Villains and a VampirebyMz_minx©
Foreword: A quick note, a UK women's size 12 is equivalent to a US women's size 10 according to Google ;) Here in the UK what we refer to as 'sweets' are what you call candy. A mobile phone/number is a cell phone/number in the US. A lift is what we call an elevator.
I loved writing this story, the main character and Sage really spoke to me very loudly. I hope you enjoy reading it :)
A massive thank you to my editor.
I'm a woman of routine. My day to life is always the same, nights out planned in advance otherwise I feel stressed out if something happens at the last moment. I wake up at seven every morning, go for a run that lasts thirty minutes, arrive home to take a shower before having breakfast. I get to the office where I'm a secretary, and all round slave to management, at nine. I have the same thing for lunch, the timing of which is the only thing I can't predict, seeing as it depends on when I get the chance to eat it at my desk. Finishing time is always six in the evening.
My days are mapped out in my PDA, meetings and such. I dislike when something is suddenly arranged last minute. Maybe it's because my Dad had always been so disorganized. As a single father he was often late collecting me from school, would miss the performances I put on during high school as he'd forget or be busy working late yet again. Maybe it's because I am just fussy and like things to go my own way. All I know is that this is who I am, any deviation from the things I have planned in my head or PDA can cause mood swings.
I've no idea why I actually agreed to go to the damned Valentine's Heroes and Villains Ball that was hosted by the dating agency my best friend Sage (yes that's her real name, her parents were unusual to say the least) worked for. Every Valentine's day for the past ten years Sage and I had spent together. The first time was due to us both being single, and deciding that we really didn't want to spend the night in yet another pub, getting groped by men that reeked of desperation. That night we had such fun that we made a promise to always spend the night together each year, and do it all over again. It suited me just fine.
We'd get a bottle of whisky, hire a couple of horror films, eat tons of popcorn and ice cream, while complaining about men and what a myth romance was. This year I'd been all set for the same thing, had even spent time figuring out what my choice of film would be, when I got the email from her begging me to let her off and buy myself a fancy dress instead.
Sage couldn't possibly get out of the Ball. She said she'd thought she'd managed it, but when the regular Events Manager had broken her arm it was down to Sage to step in to help organise everything. That alone made me laugh at the irony, Sage loses her own door keys at least once a month. An organiser she is certainly not.
Instead of staying home alone she managed to work around me with her pleas for my company during the night. She promised she'd owe me one, and that after she'd welcomed everyone she would stay with me for the rest of the night. Then she mentioned that maybe there'd be some eye candy, and it almost put me off altogether as I am not looking for a man at all, whoever I date seems to fall drastically short of my expectations. I'd sworn that 2009 was going to be date-free.
Eventually I agreed after several phone calls of her begging me to go. I guess the only reason I said yes was that I couldn't bear the thought of not spending the evening with her. We'd been close since we were five years old and she moved in next door to me, since she'd taken this new job we'd rarely seen each other except for our fortnightly girlie night out.
Seriously though, a Heroes and Villains Ball? On Valentine's Day? I had to question the sanity of the original Events Manager. Sage was forever telling me about the gorgeous men she was the matchmaker for, how she rarely saw an older guy at all, but honestly I still couldn't help but think that a dating agency was for the old and desperate. They had a website, but it was pretty basic despite offering email communication. An old fashioned type of place for sure, so how she expected me to believe that the average age of men there was thirty-five I don't know.
Besides if the men were really that fantastic, surely she'd have found one for herself instead of lusting after her boss, Grey. At thirty-one neither of us were getting any younger but Sage wanted the whole family thing, she wanted four kids and a husband she could love forever.
So there I was, a week before Valentine's Day, googling for a costume. I had absolutely no idea, I knew who Superman and Batman were, but naming female superheroes or villains was simply beyond me. All I knew was that there was no way I was doing anything permanent to my hair, or wearing a horrid itchy wig, and that I didn't want to be stood there in a costume that was practically lingerie.
In no time at all I quickly grew frustrated, there wasn't all that much of an option for women on the website I found that promised quick delivery. Realising that my options were limited I quickly chose what I thought was the least revealing and placed my order.
Despite all the effort I put in at the gym, and jogging each morning I remain a solid size 12, probably due to my everlasting love affair with sweets. While I'm not ashamed of my body nor do I tend to wear skin tight clothing, which meant on the 14th February when I unwrapped my parcel to find just how fitted the outfit was, I was not impressed.
The black fake leather bodysuit clung to each part of my body, while a black belt went around the middle. There was no way I was cancelling when I'd only just gotten used to the idea of going, and looking at myself in the mirror I didn't feel too bad, the belt helped hide the slight belly I had and it was forgiving black after all. Thank God February in the UK is cold, I could just imagine how sweaty I'd get in this costume if Valentine's day fell in July.
I found myself dialling Sage's mobile number while staring down at my make-up in confusion.
"Hi, make it quick," Sage gasped down the phone at me. "I'm up a ladder."
"I don't care, you're dragging me along with you," I growled at her in response. "So you can at least tell me what the hell kind of make-up Catwoman would wear."
"Oh that's easy, smoky eyes with black eye-liner and bright red lipstick."
"Bright red lipstick? I don't bloody own any red lipstick."
"Calm down, I've got some here with my own costume, just leave that until you get here."
"Hmm. Fine. What you wearing?"
"No way Lydia," she giggled at me, knowing how much I hated surprises. "It's a surprise for when you get here."
"Suit yourself. I'll be there in an hour then."
We said goodbye, and I finished off drying my shoulder length black hair before applying my make-up. I stuck to Sage's suggestion of smoky colours, using dark grey and black on my lids, finishing with the black eye-liner. Glancing into the mirror I felt my nerves go into overdrive, I hated new places, and I definitely wasn't looking forward to waiting on my own for an hour while Sage saw guests in. Securing the mask, complete with kitty ears, over the top part of my face, and a quick slick of clear gloss on my lips for the time being, I was ready to leave.
As soon as my taxi pulled up outside the hotel where the Ball was being held I spotted Sage. Unmissable in a skimpy She-Ra outfit! I was holding in a huge grin as I approached her, she rarely wore anything glamorous so to see her so dressed up, and showing her long legs off, made me grin like I hadn't in years.
"Thought you might find it amusing," she sighed, pouting her full lips that were painted red. "I lost a bet with Grey, he got to pick a costume for me."
"How many times do I have to tell you not to make bets? I've not known you to win one yet!" I laughed while she rolled her eyes at me. My friends, let me introduce you to Sage, Head of the Eye-Rolling Perfection Association.
"Well I thought it was a sure thing." She mumbled, flicking her pretty thick blonde hair over her shoulder.
"You always do Sage, but you look fabulous, he made a good job of choosing for you."
"Yeah, yeah, you're holding up the line and I don't want to hear it, take this lipstick and go get yourself a drink." she finished, pushing me inside. "The ballroom is on the right and just before you get to it there's the ladies' loos."
"See you in there She-Ra."
"You sure will Catwoman... Love the boots." She winked at me.
Walking into the ballroom sporting my freshly applied lipstick I glanced around to check it out. As always I was on time, and there were only about thirty people milling around; looking closer I saw that they all seemed to be of a similar age to me or younger. The decorations were classy and not at all tacky as I'd been expecting, instead of big red frilly love hearts there were black and red helium balloons floating out of luscious red Gerbera centrepieces. I was impressed, but I still needed a drink to settle my nerves.
I was sat at the bar nursing a glass of white wine, watching a very skinny Superman trying to get conversation out of at least five different women, before making his way over to the buffet table despondently. Chuckling quietly to myself I almost jumped out of my super tight bodysuit when I heard a male voice behind me.
"I'm guessing he won't have much luck with you either then." It was rich and deep, sending shivers right down my spine.
"Desperate men aren't really my thing." I blurted out, turning to see who the laughter belonged to.
Whoa! Holy cow. He was tall, clearly over six feet, with bright green eyes and brown hair that made me think of Peter Petrelli tucked behind his ears. His face should have been on the cover of every magazine in the country and his full lips in every woman's fantasies.
"Good job I'm not desperate then, let me buy you a drink."
To my amazement I let him, I was speechless and could hardly hold up my end of a conversation as he chatted with me. He ordered a bottle of champagne without even asking me what I wanted to drink, he literally oozed charm from every pore. Remembering that I had a vocabulary other than giggles and 'yeah' I tried to wake myself up.
"So who did you come as then?" I intelligently asked the hunk in front of me, not able to think of anything better.
I stared at his ankle length black leather jacket, Goth biker boots, tight black jeans and even tighter black t-shirt. Raising an eyebrow, I wondered where the cape and fangs were.
"Think Gerard Butler's portrayal." He smiled, clearly noting my doubt.
"Uh huh." how lame could I get? "So you're a villain then." What the hell was happening to my brain?
"Oh yeah, no doubt about that Kitty." He reached over the bar for the bottle of champagne he'd bought us to drink and topped up my glass. I love champagne, but can never afford it except for extra-special occasions, so it was a real treat for me to sit on the stool sipping the bubbly.
"I'm going to have to get back to my brother, but I'll come find you later." He promised.
I almost protested, but then he melted my brains into a puddle at his feet when he leaned over, confidently kissing me firmly on the lips. It was over before I could blink, and he was walking away from the bar, leather coat swinging from his broad shoulders with his brisk stride while I stared after him, stunned at the sudden kiss.
"Don't tell me that gorgeous specimen just brought you a bottle of expensive bubbly, kissed you and you still insulted him?" Sage made me jump in surprise again, as she sat on the chair he'd vacated only seconds before.
"Nope, he did and he did, but I didn't insult him at all," I shrugged, "In fact I could barely bloody speak."
"Argh, the first decent offer you get and you act stupid," Sage joked, poking me in the ribs with her elbow.
"Maybe he likes his women stupid, he said he'll find me later, had to do something or other."
"Lucky you. He sure looked red hot from where I was standing."
Suddenly Aretha Franklin's 'Respect' started playing. With a groan Sage reached into the tiny pocket on her short skirt and pulled out her mobile phone.
"Sage... Yeah I'm at the bar... No, not yet... Fuck... I'll be right there." She glanced up at me and I smiled, knowing what was coming next. "I've got to drive some guy dressed up as Superman to the hospital, apparently he tried to feel up Spidergirl and she did something to his hand. Grey can't drive as he's had a couple of drinks already."
"Oh go on, I'll hang around a bit and if Mr. Tall Dark and Dangerous doesn't come back then I'll get a taxi home." I was amazed that I didn't feel worked up at the sudden change of plans yet again. Maybe I should drink champagne more often.
"What no bitchy comment? Damn, I think I'll hire that guy to hang around you more often if he fries your brain to this extreme." She frowned at me before kissing me on the cheek and running for the exit.
I was about to give up, the champagne was all gone when, as I left the ladies room feeling slightly irritated with myself for waiting around for a guy that was clearly out of my league, I felt an arm slip around my waist. The tantalising scent of leather and man could only belong to Dracula.
"Now I've caught you Kitty... are you going to faint away in my arms?" his voice rumbled in my ear.
"Catwoman doesn't faint when bad guys catch her," I scoffed at the mere suggestion.
"What about when bad guys whisk her away to their hotel room," he breathed, kissing my neck, his stubble bringing me out in goosebumps.
"Catwoman can handle anything villains throw at her," I assured him, really not sure if it was the best idea, but not caring if it wasn't. At least I was able to speak, despite the heat flaring up between my legs as he licked and nibbled on me. Spontaneity was suddenly appealing to me for some unknown reason.
He didn't waste a single moment, swooping me up in his arms like I weighed nothing and carried me over to the open lift. Catwoman may not faint, but right then I was coming dangerously close to doing so in the arms of my mysterious, leather wearing He-Man.
As the doors closed behind us, he put me down to press the button for his floor. I still couldn't believe how perfect he was, and obviously strong if he could carry me about so effortlessly. I was wondering what he'd look like naked, and what his arse was like underneath the long coat when he glanced at me, raising an eyebrow.
"If you're not careful, I won't make it back to my room before I devour you." He stepped closer, cupping my own arse in his large hands.
"I'm not doing anything!" I grinned.
"I can feel the lust coming from you in gigantic waves," he whispered spookily in my ear.
"Huh? Who the hell are you?" What I really meant was, was he nuts? What on earth was he going on about?
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he teased, pulling on my ear lobe with his lips.
"OK. I'm a vampire."
I was about to tell him that I thought he was having me on, and I wouldn't be going anywhere other than my own home that night, when suddenly the lift stopped and he pressed his lips to mine. My brain ceased to function as he forcefully pried my lips apart with his, teasing my mouth with his warm tongue, his hands roaming all over the tight catsuit I was wearing. Suddenly I didn't care about his delusions or weird sense of humour any more when he pressed his hard cock against me. I simply wanted him.
I was breathing rapidly when he pulled me to a bedroom door across from the lift, and took out a key card before inserting it into the slot and opening the door to let me through. My legs turned to jelly when I saw the huge bed in front of me, warm and inviting. Nerves began to tingle as I realised I didn't even know the handsome stranger's name.
"It's Duncan Cole." He interrupted my thoughts.
"How did you know what I was thinking?"
"I told you the truth, not a joke, when I said I was a vampire, I have some psychic abilities."
"You can read my mind?" I asked incredulously, finding it still hard to believe.
"Well it's a bit more complicated than that," he shrugged, watching my confusion spread over my face. "I pick up some things, sometimes it's a whole line of thought and then others it's just a word or vague impression."
"I still don't believe you. I've never believed in mumbo jumbo."
"When we've had a good burst of emotions our abilities are stronger; you are a very strong woman with powerful emotions, including your lust. It feeds me so that I can do things like this."
He paused, raising his arm towards the bed. I watched as the cover drew back all by itself, simply stunned. "We're stronger than regular humans, but still some of us have stronger talents than others, mine are merely modest, but my brother can make things appear out of thin air."
"Like a magician?"
"Without the sleight of hand and tricks, yes, real magic."
"Do you drink blood?" The thought of it made me shiver in excitement, but I was sure it was different in reality.
"Yes, but usually only from another vampire. There are those of us who do feed off humans however." He shrugged. "It's normally only done by long-term couples if a vampire takes a human as a mate."
"Why are you telling me all of this? Surely it should be kept quiet?" I struggled to take in everything he was saying.
"I trust you Kitty, and I am drawn to you more than I have ever been drawn to any woman."
"My name's Lydia. I know what you mean about being drawn; I don't normally do this kind of thing with strange men," I replied honestly, despite my doubt at his words, I still felt like I was safe and could trust him.
"I think you were born to be mine," he told me, his deep voice echoing throughout my heart.
He stepped towards me until he held his body mere inches away from mine. My heart felt like it was going to beat through my rib cage it was pounding so hard. Again he pressed those delicious lips to mine. Desire shot through me, drenching me with need, while he nibbled my lips and licked them in a most delicious way.
"Oh Kitten, I want you so much too. It's not just your heart that beats so furiously."
I moaned at his words, his fingers removing the belt around my waist as he used his telekinesis to unzip the catsuit to my naval, revealing my bare breasts. I gasped at the air brushing my naked skin, sensuously stroking my nipples, as I stood there needing Duncan so badly I thought I would burst.
My nipples hardened quickly beneath the strong fingers that caressed them. I pushed the heavy coat off his broad shoulders, looking at how the black t-shirt rippled with each movement he made. He was what all men should look like, gloriously masculine and beautiful beyond belief.
He knelt before me to pull off the black knee high stripper-like boots I'd worn with the costume, before kissing me like he was possessed. Everything he did was impossibly strong and sure. There were still so many questions I had to ask, but I couldn't wait to feel him inside me, questions could wait until the morning.
He stepped out of his own boots, pushing his jeans past his hips as my hands slipped beneath his t-shirt, stroking the smooth skin and muscles on his back. Impatient to see him I tugged it up, and he finished lifting it over his head.
His body was incredible, moulded perfectly by the muscles that covered his torso. My eyes roamed from the strength of his shoulders, down to the taut abdominal muscles of his stomach, and the hard cock that sprung up from his groin. He was made to be appreciated, built for sex.
A black tribal-style tattoo was stretched across the right side of his abs; it looked different to anything I'd seen before, more delicate and swirling than the tribal tattoos I'd once checked out myself.