The Not-So-Glittery Vampire

"Okay, so I consider this a full-time job, Chelsea. In fact, since you'll be living here, it'll be more than a full-time job. You'll be part of the family. You'll practically be 'on-call' twenty-four/seven."

"I understand," Chelsea said, nervously contemplating what was coming next. She hoped it was enough for her to take the position. The law office clerk job she'd applied for was paying $30,000 and that was barely enough for her to get by. Since she wouldn't have to pay rent, she could afford significantly less than that, but she'd have to work out how much less she could get by on. She'd like to save something for the future.

"I'm offering $4000 a month. That includes room and board. You'll have to pay for your own insurance and saving, of course, but I think that'll be sufficient for you to work something out."

Germaine kept talking, but Chelsea's brain was stuck. Four-thousand dollars a month? Did she hear him correctly?

"Chelsea?"

She looked at Germaine and closed her mouth.

"You okay?" he asked, "I hate talking about money—you're really over-qualified for the position, but if you want to negotiate, we can discuss it if you want."

"Um, no. I mean, yes, I'll take it. I'll take the job. I would love to take care of Lincoln and Levi."

"Really?" he asked, his face breaking out into a grin.

"Yes!" she said, standing up. He stood up too, and she impulsively hugged him. She was so giddy, she didn't realize that the hug might be inappropriate until she felt his muscles tense. She started to pull away but he relaxed into the hug. She buried her nose in his shirt, smelled his cologne, his laundry detergent, his own un-nameable fragrance that was entirely Germaine himself. She felt his arms around her own, his hands on her back. It started to get awkward and he pulled away this time.

"Sorry," he said, visibly affected by their embrace, "Let's go tell the boys, okay?"

"Yes, you don't have to apologize. We're going to be like family, right? Family members hug."

He led her to the boys' room, thinking how that hug felt like no hug he'd ever given one of his family members.

The boys were excited and Chelsea and Giselle planned a few activities so they could make the transition smoothly. Chelsea would learn the routines while Giselle was still around to help (in between packing up her apartment). Halloween was three days away—on a Friday. She'd take her nephew trick-or-treating, head home Friday night to finish packing, and move into Germaine's house that weekend. It was all worked out in her head.

CHAPTER 3

Chelsea dropped her nephew off at her brother's house (after stealing a few pieces of candy) and headed home. She'd packed up everything except a few necessary clothes, toiletries, and her bedding. The movers would be by the next day at noon to carry one load to the storage facility and a smaller load to Germaine's. She dropped her keys and purse on the counter and unwrapped a mini Kit-Kat bar. She'd just taken a bite when she heard a knock on her door.

She threaded through the boxes and looked through the peep-hole. It was Germaine. She quickly swallowed the chocolate and made sure her bustier and leather pants were adjusted. She'd dropped the cape as she walked in. But what was he doing here?

Germaine had asked himself a similar question the entire drive to Chelsea's house. What am I doing? He'd taken the boys trick-or-treating and Giselle had taken them off to count candy and head to bed. He started to plop down on the couch, find a scary movie, and sip on a bag of the O- he had stored in his personal fridge when the thought popped into his head. Go see Chelsea, it said. He just obeyed. He left a note for Giselle and walked out of the house. He knew he shouldn't. He knew it could mess up everything before it had even begun. He'd prepped the boys (no drinking Miss Chelsea—they needed her). They assured him they wouldn't—they already liked her more than Miss Emmy. He shouldn't be messing this up.

Her blood had haunted him all week. He'd smelled the contents of the plastic bag constantly. Last night, he'd finally allowed himself to taste it, placing a piece of the gauze into his mouth, allowing his saliva to re-moisten the dried blood, sucking on it like a piece of candy. He should NOT have reacted the way he did: dick hard, desire pulsating through his empty veins, and some strange pang in the place where his heart used to beat. It was plain old blood. Blood he'd drunk a thousand times before and only gotten nourishment from. But it was different this time. He wasn't sure why. He had to find out.

Vampires hid what they were from society. They could reveal themselves to humans they deemed trustworthy. His father had entrusted Giselle with the information. He'd told the boys' mother. But he'd never wanted to share this information with a human so quickly. It had taken more than a year to trust the boys' mother. And even then, he'd only given her the basic information. Germaine wanted to reveal EVERYTHING to Chelsea.

At the very least, he wanted to fuck her. He wanted to feel the length of his cock pulsating inside the warmth of her pussy. He wanted to make her quiver around him. He wanted to make her scream his name. This was the last thought he had before she opened the door.

"Germaine? Is everything okay?"

"Um, yes, everything is fine. Can I come in?"

"Sure—it's kind of a mess. Everything is packed up for tomorrow."

"No problem," he said, following her through a maze of boxes.

"I'm sorry, I've packed all my glasses, but I have a couple of bottles of beer in the fridge. Want one?"

"Sure," he said, exhaling heavily, smiling at her. She'd not taken any of her makeup or costume off yet, so when she smiled back, her fangs pressed into her bottom lip.

She handed him the bottle and leaned against the kitchen counter.

"So," he said, after taking a swig, "Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"Yeah," she replied, "Everything is packed up except some toiletries and my bed stuff."

"Great," he said, nervously taking another swig. He watched her take her own drink, the blood red lips encircling the mouth of the bottle seductively. Except she wasn't trying.

They looked at each other nervously. Chelsea was dying inside—Germaine? In her house? How was she going to live with this man every day without jumping his bones? He'd taken off his coat and his broad shoulders were clearly visible even with the bulky sweater he had on. And those jeans? Jesus, he had the best ass she'd ever seen. Shit, she had bitten her lip with these damn fangs. She'd have to take them out as soon as --oh shit!

As soon as Germaine saw the drop of blood form on that plump, crimson lip, he reacted and jumped toward Chelsea. He took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. In that second, he waited for rejection, for fear, for something besides shock and wanting, but that was all he found. And then, he kissed her, molding his tongue to hers, relishing in the salty, metallic taste of the blood, a hint of beer, and something else....chocolate. He couldn't think of a better combination at that moment. Their tongues battled softly, then roughly, then softly again and she clutched the front of his sweater. He pressed his hips into hers and pulled his mouth far enough away so that he could suck her bottom lip. He nursed at the scratch so quickly, but so gently that she'd never realize what he was doing. As the blood trickled down his throat, his cock strained against his jeans. He'd been too preoccupied to retract his fangs and he wondered if she'd noticed yet. He quickly popped them back into his gums and moved to trail kisses down Chelsea's throat.

Chelsea was shocked, but more turned on than she'd ever been in her life. Germaine's kiss made her forget where she was. And each time he sucked her lip, she felt the pull all the way to her pussy. She forgot her name, she forgot why she shouldn't be doing this. When his lips moved to her throat, she whimpered and pushed herself closer to him.

Germaine didn't waste any time or the momentum he'd gained. He picked her up and zoomed to the unmade bed, laying her down, spreading her legs, and fitting himself in between them at the same time. They were both still clothed, but not for long, if Germaine could help it.

The lips that had her so tantalized had moved lower between her breasts and were slowly moving around the mound to the rosy pink tip that was already rock hard. How had her bustier come untied? His fingers grazed the other breast and Chelsea was gasping. She finally realized they were lying in her bed and had no recollection of stumbling their way there. His hand dipped lower to the zipper of her pants and she knew she had to stop.

"Germaine," she finally was able to gasp out his name, "Wait..." What? Don't stop him! Her body screamed at her as his hands stilled at her request.

"I want you, Chelsea. I know this has the potential to fuck things up, but we don't have to let it. I want you. Don't you want me?"

Chelsea thought about his words, felt his weight settled between her legs, and knew she wanted him too. "I do," she said, her cheeks flushing even more than before. Her lipstick was smeared on both of their mouths and those fangs, goddamn. "But," she continued, "I'm on my period."

Germaine groaned and his dick became harder than it had ever been. He thought he'd smelled her blood upon entering her apartment, but the leather pants had kept the scent contained. When he thought about the blood that had been collecting in her pussy, the sweat from the leather mixing with the menstrual scent, he couldn't contain himself. He kissed her again, needy, passionately, scrambling to unzip her pants, ripping the bustier the rest of the way open.

He stood to take off his own clothes and he had to hold back from using his excessive speed once again. Once he was completely naked, he pulled her pants down her legs, breathing deeply as her panties were revealed. Chelsea was nothing but curves. He couldn't wait to touch every part of her. The pants were thrown onto the floor and then he slowly peeled her panties down. The pantyliner had a few pinkish spots, and he saw the telltale string peeking out from between lusciously plump pussy lips. He looked back up into her hazel eyes and he saw the insecurity there.

"You're beautiful, Chelsea."

He received a shy smile at his compliment.

"You don't believe me?"

She shrugged. "You have the body of a Greek god, an African warrior, a Viking king. I'm short and plump and sweaty. And bloody. I feel dirty."

"Well, thank you for the compliments. But I would never call you plump. Curvy. Thick. Voluptuous. Not plump. The blood is natural. And I want to make you feel very dirty. A very dirty girl."

He leaned down to kiss her again and started to make his way down her body slowly.

"Let me..." she started between her gasps, "...go the bathroom. I'll take care of the, uh, tampon."

"Do you need to use the bathroom, Chelsea?"

"No, just to take out the..."

"Then don't worry about it."

CHAPTER 4

She felt his hands caressing her breasts, smoothing over her rounded tummy, out and around her hips, and then delving between her thighs to spread them even further apart. His mouth continued down from her breasts and took the same path his hands took. When they reached the apex of her thighs, she started feeling a tugging from inside. His hands had moved back to her breasts...so...how was he pulling the tampon string? Suddenly, his lips, mouth, tongue, teeth were on her pussy, around her pussy, on her clit, and still, that gentle tugging. Until she felt its absence. And then it was replaced by his tongue. Her hips bucked off the bed and she was on the edge. Until his thumb found her clit and then she fell. She fell and fell and fell. And then, Germaine caught her. He rolled her over in one swift movement and was underneath her, eyes blazing black fire. He positioned her above his dick and she balanced herself with hands on his perfect chest. Perfect abs. She sank down and was filled up. Perfect dick. Oh god, her hips began undulating on their own. She pushed up and fell back down on his dick with each rotation of her hips and her second orgasm teased her aggressively. She fought for it, speeding up, then slowing down. It was almost there....shit, shit....almost....there....

She was almost there, Germaine could tell, and damn, if he wasn't on the edge as well. He watched her struggle, bouncing her with his own hips to aid her progress. Her period blood had dripped down his dick, made a mess of the inside of her thighs. It was so erotic. The friction and sweat of their coupling had made the blood coat his lower abdomen. He was going to come before she finished if he didn't stop thinking about the bloody connection they were sharing. He pinched her nipples and she got even closer. He gripped her hips, pushing himself deeper, pressing her down harder on his dick. Finally, he swiped his thumb gently across her clit, smearing the blood there, and he felt her release. It was like an earthquake and a vortex, breaking across him and sucking him inside. As she fell forward, he continued pumping, bringing that bloody thumb to his mouth, sucking on it deeply as he finally released his cum into her bloody pussy. She continued to shake, a dead weight against his chest, pussy still jerking from the inside. He had never been more sated in his entire life, living or undead.

Chelsea felt the tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she soared through her orgasm. She'd had sex before. She'd had good sex before. But she'd never, ever, come like that before. She didn't even care that it looked like a massacre between her legs. She didn't care that her chubby body was probably suffocating the man that had just taken her to such heights. She just let tears fall, let herself fall, and relished the fullness inside her as Germaine released his grip on her hips and started softly stroking her instead.

Germaine didn't know how much time passed. It was still dark. Chelsea's soft breathing had changed—he knew she'd woken back up. He hadn't moved an inch since she fell asleep. His softened dick was still firmly implanted in her pussy and when he realized she was awake, it quickly hardened again. She turned her head and pushed herself up so she was staring right into his eyes.

"How long did I sleep?"

"Not sure, I fell asleep too."

"I didn't realize you were going as a vampire too," she said, lying her head back down on his chest as she squeezed him with her pussy, "But what did you do with your teeth? Mine still won't come out."

She rose again and worked the fake fang with her finger, trying to loosen it.

Germaine had frozen. She had seen his fangs.

Before he knew what she was doing, she'd lifted his lip to look at his teeth. His fangs had retracted since they'd finished fucking. But the movements of her pussy were making them want to come back down again. He could take this opportunity to tell her the truth.

He flipped her over so that she was on her back again. He hovered over her and grinned at her wickedly, pumping shallowly into her pussy.

"What if I told you something unbelievable?"

"I'd probably believe you," she said, gasping with each pump, "But only because it's you."

"I'm going to tell you something. And then I'm going to show you something. And I don't want you to freak out. Because I don't want to lose you. I don't want my boys to lose their nanny. I don't want to lose this," he said, indicating with his dick exactly what he didn't want to lose.

"I know you're going to freak out, but I promise, I won't hurt you, okay?"

"Well, you're already freaking me out," she said, grunting when he pumped extra hard.

"What if I told you," he said, gyrating his hips, "that I go as a vampire every Halloween?"

"Oh yeah?"

"What if I told you," he said, "that I go as a vampire every day?"

Her brow crinkled but the pumping had turned into a pounding.

"What if I told you that I was a vampire?" The pounding stilled.

Her face turned doubtful. But no fear registered. "What do you mean, Germaine? Is this a joke?"

"No, Chelsea, it's not a joke. This is Halloween, not April Fool's Day."

"A vampire? You're a vampire. I don't believe you."

"But you're not afraid," he said, "Right? Because I told you, I'm not going to hurt you. I promise, I won't hurt you. Okay?"

She nodded and resumed fucking her.

"Watch."

She nodded again and looked into his eyes. He saw a little bit of confusion. He opened his mouth. And popped out his fangs.

"Shit!" she said, eyes widening. In fear? No. In shock.

He kept pounding away and she kept responding. But her eyes didn't stray from his fangs. Slowly, he felt her hand on his shoulder, then his neck, then his cheek. Then, her fingers softly touched his lips. She paused. And then touched a fang. So gently. Those fangs that could've ripped her throat out. Those fangs that could drain her dry. She touched them so gently, almost reverently. Like they could be broken.

"Chelsea."

He said her name like a prayer, his forehead dropping gently on her own. They rocked into each other, her finger still exploring the length and sharpness of the fang. She pressed it against the tip softly and he moaned. He could feel the pressure of the blood, just under her delicate skin. She pressed it harder and harder until that skin broke. She cried out softly and the blood dripped onto his tongue. He moaned louder and his dick jolted into her. But he didn't lose control. She pressed her finger into his mouth, caressed his tongue. He looked into her eyes as he sucked. And she saw a lone tear, red as her own blood, fall from his eye. It made a slow path down his cheek. She brought his face closer to her mouth and she kissed that tear. Felt the wetness on her lips and tasted the metallic saltiness on her tongue.

Germaine had lost all control. He had shed a tear over this woman, this human, mortal woman. And she'd accepted him in all his strength and all his weakness. He kissed her and they rocked together slowly until they both finished. Her legs wrapped around him and she signed in contentment.

What had Chelsea gotten herself into? What had gotten into Chelsea? She met this man five days ago, he was now her employer, she'd just had wild, crazy period sex with him, and now she is learning that he's a vampire? And she'd just let him suck her blood? Had fed it to him, let him lick her finger like it was a dollop of chocolate? On Halloween? And their fuck session had just turned into some sort of spiritual, love-making session? She didn't feel panicky about it. Her mind was racing, but not in a negative way. He'd promised not to hurt her, and while she didn't believe him at first, he'd just shown her proof. One part of her felt like this was the most natural, normal thing in the world; the other part felt like she should find her way to the nearest loony bin, do not pass go, do not collect $200. Shut up, she told her brain, shut up, for like, 5 minutes. Enjoy this mind-blowing experience, even if it is with a vampire. Ask all your questions later. Out loud. To him. And so she did.

Germaine could feel her mind racing. He didn't know what she was thinking—panic? Anger? Confusion? Probably all of those. He started to worry. She hadn't pulled away. She'd left her legs wrapped around him. He still had his head buried in the crook of her neck. He'd almost caught his breath. It was time to move, to say something. He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked her straight in the eye.

"Are you with me, Chelsea?"

"Yes," she said, lips twisting to the side.

"I didn't have to tell you this. But I wanted to."

"Who knows?"

"Giselle, of course. She is my true mother. She was human when she gave birth to my brother and a few years later, me. When we started school, she asked my father to turn her. He did."